Page:Maud Howe - Atlanta in the South.djvu/158

 twice flashed such fire into his own. The buoyant exaltation which he had known in other affections was not his now; it was a love that brought infinite pain and distrust of himself. He who had always secretly felt a certain superiority over his fellows, masked by a real friendliness and good-will, was now keenly alive to all his own shortcomings. He had taken to reading books which he found it very difficult to understand, and fell to talking about those things which interested Margaret with a lamentable want of success. He haunted the shops where prints of the great European works of art were to be seen. He bought handbooks of art and cultivated the society of an old school-friend, an obscure artist little esteemed by him hitherto on account of his trifling profession and puny strength. All this to please a girl who called him a savage, and only cared to see him when he was in full health and spirits! They had failed him sadly of late, these irrepressible spirits, and the heavy arches of his brow were often lifted into a frown, while the eyes had grown darker and less full of light and joy than they had been before this grievous love had come to vex his heart. He was missed from his wonted haunts, and one evening a group of friends sought him out at his house. They would take no denial from his servant, and finally forced themselves