His only resource was to take
refuge in repeating to himself that he did not love Mrs. Fenton; but
even in denying it he felt that he was defending himself from a charge
which was a degradation to her as well as to himself. He fell into that
morbid state of mind where whatever he tried as a remedy made his
disease but the worse; where the idea of love was the more horrible to
him the more it possessed and pervaded his whole being.
Mrs. Herman was not unobservant of his condition, although she was far
from understanding his state of mind. She felt that there was little
use in forcing his confidence, but she gave him now and then an
opportunity to confide in her, feeling sure that he would be the better
for freeing his heart in speech.
She was sitting one afternoon alone in the library when Ashe came home
from a missionary expedition. The day was gray and gloomy, and the
early twilight was shutting down already, so that the fire began to
shine with a redder hue. Mrs. Herman was taking her tea alone, and as
it chanced, she was thinking of her cousin.
"You are just in time for tea," she greeted him.
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