By the Light of the Soul: A NovelFreeman, Mary Eleanor Wilkins
General
By the Light of the Soul: A Novel
Freeman, Mary Eleanor Wilkins
Fiction
"No, I won't. Let George Ramsey chew his sour grapes if he wants to.
I sha'n't say anything about it. Anybody with any sense can't help
knowing a man of sense would have rather had you than Lily Merrill. I
ain't afraid of anybody thinking you're slighted." There was
indignant and acrid loyalty in Aunt Maria's tone. She closed the
door, as was her wont, with a little slam and went down-stairs. Aunt
Maria walked very heavily. Her steps jarred the house.
Maria continued sitting at her window. Presently a new light, a rosy
light of a lamp under a pink shade, flashed in her eyes. The parlor
in the Merrill house was lighted. Maria saw Lily draw down the
curtain, upon which directly appeared the shadows of growing plants
behind it in a delicate grace of tracery. Presently Maria saw a horse
and sleigh drive into the Merrill yard. She saw Mrs. Merrill open the
side-door, and Dr. Ellridge enter. Then she watched longer, and
presently a dark shadow of a man passed down the street, of which she
could see a short stretch from her window, and she saw him go to the
front door of the Merrill house. Maria knew that was George Ramsey.
She laughed a little, hysterical laugh as she sat there in the dark.
It was ridiculous, the two pairs of lovers in the two rooms! The
second-hand, warmed-over, renovated love and the new. After Maria
laughed she sobbed. Then she checked her sobs and sat quite still and
fought, and presently a strange thing happened, which is not possible
to all, but is possible to some. With an effort of the will which
shocked her house of life, and her very soul, and left marks which
she would bear to all eternity, she put this unlawful love for the
lover of another out of her heart. She closed all her doors and
windows of thought and sense upon him, and the love was gone, and in
its place was an awful emptiness which yet filled her with triumph.
"I do not love him at all now," she said, quite aloud; and it was
true that she did not. She rose, pulled down her curtains, lighted
her lamp, and went to work.
Chapter XXVI
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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