When she found herself left forgotten in a corner, or
unanswered when she spoke, or unnoticed when she bade him good-morning,
she consoled herself with reflecting that after every rudeness,
Wharton's regard for her seemed to rise, and he took her more and more
into his confidence with every new brutality.
"Some day he will drag you to the altar by the hair," said Esther; "and
tell you that his happiness requires you to be his wife."
"I wish he would try," said Catherine with a little look of humor; "but
he has one wife already."
"She mysteriously disappeared," replied Esther. "Some day you will find
her skeleton, poor thing!"
"Do you think so?" said Catherine gravely. "How fascinating he is! He
makes me shiver!"
When Catherine begged to have every thing begun again, Wharton
hesitated. Esther's work was not to his taste, but he was not at all
sure that she would do equally well if she tried to imitate his own
manner.
"You know I wanted Miss Dudley to put more religious feeling and force
into her painting," said he, "but you all united and rode me down."
"I will look like a real angel this time," said Catherine. "Now I know
what it is you want."
"I am more than half on her side," went on Wharton. "I am not sure that
she is wrong. It all comes to this: is religion a struggle or a joy? To
me it is a terrible battle, to be won or lost. I like your green dress
with the violets.
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