Chapter XVI
Valentine Charteris never told the secret. She listened to the
wonder and conjectures of all around her, but not even to her
mother did she hint what had passed. She pitied Ronald
profoundly. She knew the shock Dora had inflicted on his
sensitive, honorable disposition. For Dora herself she felt
nothing but compassion. Her calm, serene nature was incapable of
such jealousies. Valentine could never be jealous or mean, but
she could understand the torture that had made shy, gentle Dora
both.
"Jealous of me, poor child!" said Valentine to herself. "Nothing
but ignorance can excuse her. As though I, with half Florence at
my feet, cared for her husband, except as a dear and true
friend."
So the little villa was deserted; the gaunt, silent servant found
a fresh place. Ronald's pictures were eagerly bought up; the
pretty countess, after looking very sentimental and sad for some
days, forgot her sorrow and its cause in the novelty of making
the acquaintance of an impassive unimpressionable American.
Florence soon forgot one whom she had been proud to know and
honor.
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