How many more phases will she exhibit before the week is over ?" Poor Madge could not have answered that question herself.

She was under the control of one of the chief inspirations of feeling and action.

Moods of which she had never dreamed would become inevitable; thoughts which nothing external could suggest would arise in her own heart and determine her manner.
In ceasing to hope one also ceases to fear, and Graydon admitted to himself that he had never before felt the change in Madge so deeply.
The weak, timid little girl he had once known now looked as if she could quietly face anything.

The crowded room, the stare of strangers, were simply as if they were not; the approach of a thunder-gust in the sultry evening was unheeded; when a loud peal drowned her voice, she simply waited till she could be heard again, and then went on without a tremor in her tones, while all around her people were nervous, starting, and exclaiming.

There was not the faintest suggestion of high tragedy in her manner.