There was no upbraiding, no reviling.

Not in the slightest degree did she even attempt to deceive herself; with set, tearless eyes, and without a sigh of regret, she simply faced the naked truth.
She had made the mistake herself; now she must bear the burden of discovery.

It was not the dull inertia of fatalism, but rather the sober decision of a woman who had been tried in the fire, who understood her own heart, and comprehended the strength of her own will.

Personal suffering and sacrifice were no new chapters written in her life; these had been met before, and now, in yet another guise, they could be courageously met again.

She sat up quickly upon the edge of the bed, her hands pressing back the heavy hair from off her hot forehead.