The Cameron pride; or, purified by suffering : $b A novelHolmes, Mary Jane
General
The Cameron pride; or, purified by suffering : $b A novel
Holmes, Mary Jane
American fiction -- 19th century
Then laying her head upon the rock where she was sitting, Katy tried to
pray as she had not prayed in months, asking that God would teach her
what she ought to know and keep her unspotted from the world. But at the
Mountain House it is easier to pray that one be kept from temptation
than it is at Saratoga, which this summer was crowded to overflowing,
its streets presenting a fitting picture of Vanity Fair, so full were
they of show and gala dress. At the United States, where Mrs. Cameron
stopped, two rooms, for which an enormous price was paid, had been
reserved for Mr. and Mrs. Wilford Cameron, and this of itself would have
given them a certain éclat, even if there had not been present many who
remembered the proud, fastidious bachelor, and were proportionately
anxious to see his wife. _She came, she saw, she conquered_; and within
three days after her arrival Katy Cameron was the acknowledged belle of
Saratoga, from the United States to the Clarendon. And Katy, alas, was
not quite the same as she who on the mountain ridge had sat with
Morris’s letter in her hand, praying that its teachings might not be
forgotten. Saratoga seemed different to her from New York, and she
plunged into its gaieties, never pausing, never tiring, and seldom
giving herself time to think; much less to pray, as Morris had bidden
her do. And Wilford, though hardly able to recognize the usually timid
Katy in the brilliant woman who led rather than followed, was sure of
her faith to him, and so was only proud and gratified to see her bear
off the palm from every competitor, while Juno, though she quarreled
with the shadow into which she was so completely thrown, enjoyed the
éclat cast upon their party by the presence of Mrs. Wilford, who had
passed beyond her criticism. Sybil Grandon, too, stood back in wonder
that a simple country girl should win and wear the laurels she had so
long claimed as her own; but as there was no help for it she contented
herself as best she could with the admiration she did receive, and
whenever opportunity occurred, said bitter things of Mrs. Wilford, whose
parentage and low estate were through her pretty generally known. But it
did not matter there what Katy _had been_; the people took her for what
she _was now_, and Sybil’s glory faded like the early dawn in the coming
of the full day.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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