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Chapter 29

           Allwhosucceedinwinningsomelittleplaceofindependencemustexpectthegrudgingenmityofhundredswhocannotfindeventhesmallestfoothold,andarethereforefailuresinthebattleoflife—Ipitythesesincerely,andwhentheysayorwritecruelthingsofme,Iknowitisonlyspleenanddisappointmentthatmovesboththeirtonguesandpens,andfreelypardonthem.Theycannothurtorhinderme—infact,noonecanhurtorhindermebutmyself."

           Iheardthetreesrustleslightly—abranchcracked—andpeeringthroughtheleaves,IsawthatLuciohadadvancedastepclosertowhereMavisstood.Afaintsmilewasonhisface,softeningitwonderfullyandgivinganalmostsupernaturallighttohisbeautifuldarkfeatures.

           "Fairphilosopher,youarealmostafeminineMarcusAureliusinyourestimateofmenandthings!"—hesaid;"But—youarestillawoman—andthereisonethinglackingtoyourlifeofsublimeandcalmcontentment—athingatwhosetouchphilosophyfails,andwisdomwithersatitsroot.Love,MavisClare!—lover’slove—devotedlove,blindlypassionate—thishasnotbeenyoursasyettowin!Noheartbeatsagainstyourown—notenderarmscaressyou—youarealone.Menareforthemostpartafraidofyou—beingbrutefoolsthemselves,theyliketheirwomentobebrutefoolsalso—andtheygrudgeyouyourkeenintellect—yoursereneindependence.

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