d the hand to toil while
the heart aches.

She was glad, she kept assuring herself, that she had put an end to all
hope from Ludlow; she rejoiced bitterly that now, however she had
disgraced herself in her violent behavior, she had at least disgraced
no one else. No one else could suffer through any claim upon her, or
kindness for her, or had any right to feel ashamed of her or injured by
her. But Cornelia was at the same time puzzled and perplexed with
herself, and dismayed with the slightness of her hold upon impulses of
hers which she thought she had overcome and bound forever. She made the
discovery, which she was yet far too young to formulate, that she had a
temperament to deal with that could at any time shake to ruins the
character she had so carefully built upon it, and had so wholly
mistaken for herself. In the midst of this dismay she made another
discovery, and this was that perhaps even her temperament was not what
she had believed it, but was still largely unknown to her. She had
always known that she was quick and passionate, but she certainly had
not supposed that she was capable of the meanness of wondering whether
Mr. Ludlow would take her note as less final than she had meant it, and
would perhaps seek some explanation of it. No girl that she ever heard
or read of, had ever fallen quite so low as to hope that; but was not
she hoping just that? Perhaps she had even written those words with the
tacit intention of calling him back! But this conjecture was the mere
play of a morbid fancy, and weak as she was, Cornelia had the strength
to forbid it and deny it.

At the end of the afternoon, she pretended that she ought to go and see
what had happened to Charmian, and on the way, she had time to
recognize her own hypocrisy, and to resolve that she would do penance
for it by coming straight at the true reason of her errand. She was
sent to Charmian in her studio, and she scarcely gave her a chance to
explain that she had staid at home on account of a cold, and had
written a note for Cornelia to come to dinner with her, which she would
find when she got back.

Cornelia said, "I want to tell you something, Charmian, and I want you
to tell me what you really think--whether I've done right, or not."

Charmian's eyes lightened. "Wait a moment!" She got a piece of the
lightwood, and put it on the fire which she had kindled on the hearth
to keep the spring chill off, and went and turned Ludlow's sketch of
hers