"
"But he is clever; he writes books. Don't you think he will make
himself known some day?"
"That kind of thing isn't much to be depended on, it seems to me.
It's a doubtful business to look forward to for a living."
Ida kept silence on the subject after that. She did not seem to
brood any longer over sad thoughts, yet it was seldom she behaved or
spoke light-heartedly; her face often indicated an absent mind, but
it was the calm musing of one whose thoughts look to the future and
strengthen themselves with hope. Times there were when she drew away
into solitude, and these were the intervals of doubt and
self-questioning. With her grandfather she was reconciled; she had
become convinced of his kindness to her, and the far-off past was
now seldom in her mind. The trouble originated in the deepest
workings of her nature. When she found herself comparing her
position now with that of former days, it excited in her a restive
mood to think that chance alone had thus raised her out of misery,
that the conscious strength and purity of her soul would never have
availed to help her to the things which were now within her grasp.
The old sense of the world's injustice excited anger and revolt in
her heart.
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