one could not use even a hired hand, worked her more as a
slave-driver hurries his underlings that profits may mount; now,
by her mere existence, she was thwarting him. She saw him again
as he had flashed before her when he had talked of Rose and she
admitted bitterly to herself, what in her heart she had known all
along--that if Martin could have loved her, she could have
worshipped him. Instead, he had slowly smothered her, but she had
at least a dignity in the community. He should not harm that. If
they were unhappy, at least no one knew it. Her pride was her
refuge. If that were violated she felt life would hold no
sanctuary, that her soul would be stripped naked before the
world.

But why was she afraid? Didn't Martin have his own position to
think of? What if he had said nothing was to be compared to his
new-found love for Rose. What stupidity on his part not to
realize that it was his very position, power and money that
commanded her respect. Did he command anything else from her?
Mrs. Wade reviewed the evening. Yes, response had been in Rose's
laugh, in every movement. Hadn't she always adored Martin, even
as a tiny girl? Hadn't there always been some mystic bond between
them? How she had envied them then. But if Martin were to go to
her with only his love? From the depths of her observations of
people she took comfort. He might stir his lovely Rose of Sharon
to the uttermost, had he been free he might have won her for his
wife--but would it be possible for fifty-four to hold the
attention of twenty for long if he had nothing but his love to
offer?

Such thoughts were hurrying through her heated mind as Martin