peaceful and happy with him. Angela couldn't be. He really didn't
admire her enough, couldn't fuss over her enough. Even while he was
soothing her in these moments, trying to make her believe that there was
no basis for her fears, sympathizing with her subconscious intuitions
that all was not well, he was thinking of how different his life might
have been.

"It won't end that way," he would soothe. "Don't cry. Come now, don't
cry. We're going to be very happy. I'm going to love you always, just as
I'm loving you now, and you're going to love me. Won't that be all
right? Come on, now. Cheer up. Don't be so pessimistic. Come on, Angela.
Please do. Please!"

Angela would brighten after a time, but there were spells of
apprehension and gloom; they were common, apt to burst forth like a
summer storm when neither of them was really expecting it.

The discovery of these letters now checked the feeling, with which she
tried to delude herself at times, that there might be anything more than
kindness here. They confirmed her suspicions that there was not and
brought on that sense of defeat and despair which so often and so
tragically overcame her. It did it at a time, too, when Eugene needed
her undivided consideration and feeling, for he was in a wretched state
of mind. To have her quarrel with him now, lose her temper, fly into
rages and compel him to console her, was very trying. He was in no mood
for it; could not very well endure it without injury to himself. He was
seeking for an atmosphere of joyousness, wishing to find a cheerful
optimism somewhere which would pull him out of himself and make him
whole. Not infrequently he dropped in to see Norma Whitmore, Isadora
Crane, who was getting along very well on the stage, Hedda Andersen, who
had a natural charm of intellect with much vivacity, even though she was
a model, and now and then Miriam Finch. The latter was glad to see him
alone, almost as a testimony against Angela, though she would not go out
of her way to conceal from Angela the fact that he had been there. The
others, though he said nothing, assumed that since Angela did not come
with him he wanted nothing said and observed his wish. They were
inclined to think that he had made a matrimonial mistake and was
possibly artistically or intellectually lonely. All of them noted his
decline in health with considerate apprehension and sorrow. It was too
bad, they thought, if his health was going to fail him just at thi