But if this were happiness, then
happiness was not what she had been accustomed to think it; where were
the rest, the contentment, the placidity and satisfaction which the word
was usually considered to imply?
* * *
Quisante came to her, wreathed in triumph. It was a mood she liked him
in; he offended her not when he celebrated success, but when he intrigued
for it. His new-born confidence seemed to make any drawing-back on her
part impossible; she had sent him, she was bound to reward the happy
issue of her mission. Another thing touched her very deeply; while
protesting his unworthiness of her, he based his humility on the special
and wonderful knowledge of her that he possessed and referred it entirely
to this inner secret excellence of hers and not in the least to her
position or to any difference between his and hers. He did not suppose
that society would be aghast or that the world at large would see cause
for dismay in the marriage. He expected hearty congratulations for
himself, but it was evident that he thought she would have her full share
of them too; he had, in fact, no idea that May Gaston would not be
thought to be doing very well for herself.
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