She was learning to hide her thoughts, to
keep her little troubles in her own heart and ponder them. The
time was past when she would throw herself into Ronald's arms and
weep out her sorrows there.
Ronald did not notice the change. Home seemed very dull. It was
a great pleasure to leave the solitary little villa and sit in
the brilliant salon of Lady Charteris's well-appointed home. It
was pleasant to exchange dull monotony for sparkling conversation
and gay society.
Valentine had many admirers. Every one knew the Prince di
Borgesi would gladly have laid his fortune and title at her feet;
but she cared for neither. Ronald often watched her as noble and
learned men offered their homage to her. She smiled brightly,
spoke well and gracefully; but he never saw in her face the look
he once remembered there. Lady Charteris deplored her daughter's
obstinacy. She took Ronald into her confidence, and confided to
him her annoyance when one suitor after another was dismissed.
Ronald was not particularly vain. Like most men, he had a
pleasing consciousness of his own worth; but he could not help
remembering his mother's assurance that Valentine cared for him.
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