But if
she ceased to feel herself actually a guilty and sinning woman, she was
none the less sensitive to the world's scorn; to the bitterness of
holding a position that society refused to tolerate or to recognize.
But, after all, she knew happiness which is denied to nine-tenths of
women, nay, to ninety-nine out of a hundred. She enjoyed the passionate,
unfailing devotion of the man whom she adored--no harsh word ever
crossed his lips to her--she was his first care and thought--no party of
pleasure ever tempted him from her side--nothing but the claim of
business could induce him to spend an evening away from her. And so the
years passed on. It is an unalterable law of nature that passion must
succumb before habit, but it may be succeeded by a calm content, a happy
trustful confidence, that wears better, and is perhaps in the long run
more satisfactory.
Twelve years elapsed, and during that time Virginia enjoyed unbroken
health. Then, one winter, she caught a severe cold, which settled on her
lungs; her life was despaired of. No woman was ever a more tender, more
devoted nurse than Philip. But this illness left her extremely delicate;
she could no longer brave all weathers as formerly, nor be Philip's
constant companion in his walks and drives. She was forbidden to go out
at night, and they had been so in the habit of going to the play,
especially in the winter months.
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