What a perfect joy
it must be for her to associate with people who are her equals!"
"I wonder," said Mrs. Banks, "what her rancher would say if he saw his
handsome wife now. So much admiration from an old lover is not good for
the peace of mind of even a serious-minded author--and such a
fascinating man as Bruce! Look how well they look together! I wonder if
she is mentally comparing her big, sunburned cattleman with Bruce, and
thinking of what a different life she would have led if she had married
him!"
"Do you suppose," said Mrs. Trenton, "that that was her own story that
she told us? I think she must have felt it herself to be able to tell
it so."
Just at that moment Bruce Edwards was asking her the same question.
"Oh, no," she answered, quickly, while an interested group drew near;
"people never write their own sorrows--the broken heart does not sing--
that's the sadness of it. If one can talk of their sorrows they soon
cease to be. It's because I have not had any sorrows of my own that I
have seen and been able to tell of the tragedies of life."
"Isn't she the jolly best bluffer you ever heard?" one of the men
remarked to another. "Just think of that beautiful creature, born for
admiration, living ten miles from anywhere, on an Albertan ranch of all
places, and saying she is happy. She could be a top-notcher in any
society in Canada--why, great Scott! any of us would have married that
girl, and been glad to do it!" And under the glow of this generous
declaration Mr.
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