She would not
have had the courage to come to town, even for Sylvia's sake,
if she had thought she would meet Andrew Cameron. The mere sight
of him opened up anew a sealed fountain of bitterness in her soul;
but the thought of Sylvia somehow stemmed the torrent, and presently
the Old Lady was smiling rather triumphantly, thinking rightly that she
had come off best in that unwelcome encounter. SHE, at any rate,
had not faltered and coloured, and lost her presence of mind.
"It is little wonder HE did," thought the Old Lady vindictively.
It pleased her that Andrew Cameron should lose, before her,
the front of adamant he presented to the world. He was her cousin
and the only living creature Old Lady Lloyd hated, and she hated
and despised him with all the intensity of her intense nature.
She and hers had sustained grievous wrong at his hands,
and the Old Lady was convinced that she would rather die than take
any notice of his existence.
Presently, she resolutely put Andrew Cameron out of her mind.
It was desecration to think of him and Sylvia together.
When she laid her weary head on her pillow that night she was so
happy that even the thought of the vacant shelf in the room below,
where the grape jug had always been, gave her only a momentary pang.
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