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- Emily, amid all the whirl of emotions roused by Mrs. Kent's tale, was keenly
- conscious of only one thing. Bitterness—humiliation—shame had vanished from
- her being. Teddy _had_ loved her. The sweetness of the revelation blotted
- out, for the time at least, all other feelings. Anger—resentment—could find no
- place in her soul. She felt like a new creature. And there was sincerity in
- heart and tone as she said slowly:
- "I do—I do. I understand."
- Mrs. Kent suddenly wrung her hands.
- "Emily—is it too late? Is it too late? They're not married yet—I know he
- doesn't love her as he loved you. If you told him—if I told him—"
- "No, no, no," cried Emily passionately. "It _is_ too late. He must never
- know—you must never tell him. He loves Ilse now. I am sure of that—and telling
- him this would do no good and much evil. Promise me—dear Mrs. Kent, if you
- feel you owe me anything promise me, you'll never tell him."
- "But you—you will be unhappy—"
- "I will not be unhappy—not now. You don't know what a difference this has
- made. The sting has gone out of everything. I am going to have a happy, busy,
- useful life and regret for old dreams will have no place in it. The wound will
- heal now."
- "It was—a terrible thing for me to do," whispered Mrs. Kent. "I see that—at
- "I suppose it was. But I'm not thinking of that. Only that I've got my self-
- respect back."
- "The Murray pride," whispered Mrs. Kent, staring at her. "After all, Emily
- Starr, I believe pride is a stronger passion with you than love."
- "Perhaps," said Emily smiling.