She would, in spite of her strange position, have been
welcomed with open arms by the whole neighborhood, but she was sick with
mortal sorrow--life had not a charm for her.
She had no words for visitors--she had no wish left for enjoyment. Just
to dream her life away was all she cared for. The disappointment was so
keen, so bitter, she could not overcome it. Death would free Norman from
all burden--would free him from this tie that must be hateful to him.
Death was no foe to be met and fought with inch by inch; he was rather a
friend who was to save her from the embarrassment of living on--a friend
who would free her husband from the effects of his terrible mistake.
Madaline had never sent for her mother, not knowing whether Lord
Arleigh would like it; but she had constantly written to her, and had
forwarded money to her. She had sent her more than Margaret Dornham was
willing to accept. Another thing she had done--she had most carefully
refrained from saying one word to her mother as to the cause of her
separation from her husband. Indeed, Margaret Dornham had no notion of
the life that her well-beloved Madaline was leading.
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