She would carefully hide all traces of pique or annoyance. She would
never let him find her dull or unhappy. Men liked to be amused. She
would do her best to entertain him; he would never have a moment's
vacancy in her society. She would find sparkling anecdotes, repartees,
witty, humorous stories, to amuse him. He liked her singing; she would
cultivate it more and more. She would study him, dress for him, live for
him, and him alone; she would have no other end, aim, thought, or
desire. She would herself be the source of all his amusement, so that he
should look for the every-day pleasures of his life to her--and, such
being the case, she would win him; she felt sure of it. Why had she been
so hopeless, so despairing? There was no real cause for it. Perhaps,
after all, he had looked upon the whole affair, not as a solemn
engagement, but as a childish farce. Perhaps he had never really thought
of her as his wife; but there would be an end to that thoughtlessness
now. What had passed on the previous day would arouse his attention, he
could never know the same indifference again.
So she rose with renewed hope.
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