Page:Caroline Lockhart--The full of the Moon.djvu/135

 hate because she was so kind, with her daintiness, her unaffected graces, her unconscious coquetry, had taken him from her without an effort.

And Edith had not her rival's ready wit, her merry laugh, her sparkling eyes, with which to win him back; she had only her commonplace prettiness and her commonplace devotion to offer him. These harsh truths did not make his frank desertion of her any easier to bear.

"Oh my! Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!" she sobbed, and the tears fell faster—miserably conscious that she was commonplace, even in her grief.

She had been so buoyant, life had been so sweet in spite of the struggle, until Nan came. Ben never had exactly told her that he cared more for her than for any of the few women of his acquaintance, but he had looked it. He frequently rode out of his way to eat with them, and he had given her presents at Christmas.

The reins were loose on the pony's neck, and he was going his own gait and direction when the familiar cowboy whoop made her