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- A Wife's Honor
A Wife's Honor
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Excerpt from A Wife's Honor: A Novel
There was more of carelessness than reproach in his tones. It had better been plain reproach, for there is nothing so dangerous as an assumption of indifference toward a sensitive soul.
Mrs. Boynton was keenly sensitive, imaginative, affectionate. She was beautiful herself, and an admirer of the beautiful. There was much in her character which was rare and loveable, yet it was not goodness nor amiability without alloy. That never exists in this world - and it is perpetually looked for, hence arises perpetual disappointment.
Tracy Boynton quickened her steps, unmindful of the increasing steepness of the ascent. For the scene was upon a mountain side, near a small, quiet summer hotel perched upon a grassy plot with a steep, zigzag road below and an almost perpendicular pathway above. In a moment the young wife had passed beyond the view of Mr. Boynton.
Toward the base of the mountain the sides were covered with patches of verdure, mottled with gray rocks and shaded by clumps of trees. But as you ascended the way became steeper, and the rocks predominated, growing rugged and sharp. In places steps had been chiseled to make the heights more easily accessible. There were occasional tufts of grass and shrubbery all the way, growing from clefts, and sustained by thin patches of soil.
Tracy Boynton ran up the path with a reckless swiftness. There were places where a misstep would have cost her her life - or at best fractured limbs. But in the heat of her resentment she tempted fate. What if she should fall? she asked herself. Would her husband care? If he did care, why did he refuse to humor her wish, and climb the steep at her side?
Of course these questionings were unreasonable, and when the flash of anger was past she would see them to have been so. But now her resentful feelings were fed by them, and as she ran on and on she almost wished that she might fall and be killed by - accident.
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