In my anger I put him beneath all others, because, as a silly girl, I had been blinded by my own delusions, and, as a foolish woman, I had gone on dreaming the dreams of a girl. The thought, too, of Lucy having been so close to me all these months, and of how nearly I had confided in her, stung me like a blow. And this was the end! I had wasted every affection of my nature in blind worship of the idol which now lay shattered at the first blow. I had wandered with reckless feet far from the path in which all prudent women tread, to find myself in a wilderness alone and without a refuge. My secret was in the keeping of Sarennes, who would sooner or later betray it, when he thought by so doing he could bend me to his will. Why had I never looked at this with the same eyes, the same brain I had used in other matters? In other matters I had conducted myself as a reasonable woman should; but in this, the weightiest affair in my life, had I wandered, without sane thought, without any guide save impulses so unreasoning that they could scarce have even swayed my judgment in other things. Then, my anger having passed, I saw the whole incredible folly of my life, and alone and in bitter misery I trod the Valley of Humiliation, until with wearied soul and softened heart I knelt and prayed for deliverance. When I returned to the house the effort to meet and talk with others did much to restore me to myself. Angelique, I could see, was greatly excited, and it was a pain to think that what to me was a bitter degradation and the wreck of all my hopes could possibly be looked upon by a young and innocent girl as a piece of curious surmisal, perhaps to be laughed over and speculated upon, without a thought of the misery it entailed. In my room that night I reasoned out my whole position calmly from the beginning, and with a chilling fear I saw myself confronted by a new humiliation. Had I not in my infatuation misconstrued every little kindness on the part of Hugh, every expression of sympathy and of ordinary courtesy, nay, every smile, and look, and word, into a language which existed only in my credulous imagination? Had he ever spoken a single word of love to me? Had he not even refused to answer my girlish appeal to him at our parting? Was it, then, possible that I was not only in a false position now, but that I had throughout been playing that most contemptible of all roles--the infatuated woman who imagines herself beloved by one indifferent to her? I was overwhelmed with shame at the thought, still, turn it as I might, I could not see that it admitted of any other conclusion.