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Updated: June 16, 2025
Then she would see Arthur's face, gentle, protective, tender, as it had looked on that last evening, and for an instant her lost girlhood and her girlhood's dream would envelop her like the fragrance of flowers. At such moments she thought of this love as tenderly as a mother might have thought of the exquisite dead face of an infant who had lived only an hour.
The very voice was altered, and had an added richness of tone. It was like catching a glimpse into the future, and beholding the woman that was to be, when girlhood's bright span was over. Instinctively Jack's manner altered to meet the change. The supercilious curve left his lip, his keen eyes softened. "Thank you, Miss Mollie," he said gravely. "You are quite right. I'll remember!"
He never forgot that moment as she stood panting before him on the gravel walk, her girlhood's grace blending so harmoniously with her budding womanhood.
Grief, shame, remorse, and passionate regret for the lost love and squandered happiness that might have been hers, were all revealed in the thrilling, pathetic, deprecating gaze with which she once more met the eyes of her girlhood's young worshiper, her worshiper no longer. "Of all sad words of tongue or pen The saddest are these: 'It might have been."
Some say that Artemis carried her away to the land of the Taurians, where she had a temple and an altar; and there is a story that, long years afterward, her brother Orestes found her there, and led her back to her girlhood's home, even to Mycenae.
"Busy, grandpapa?" said Letty, and without waiting for an answer kissed his cheek with a pair of lips made on purpose for that little function, fine, but richly turned out, the corners tucked in with a finish of pretty dimples, the rose-bud lips of girlhood's June. The old gentleman looked at his granddaughter.
Excell, a colorless little woman who retained only the dim outline of her girlhood's beauty, sat gracelessly in her pew, but her stepdaughter, Maud, by her side, was carrying to early maturity a dainty grace united with something strong and fine drawn from her father. She had his proud lift of the head. "What a fine family!" whispered the women from pew to pew under cover of the creaking fans.
Mora, the girl, had felt thus; Mora, the woman, remembered it; and the Bishop, as he thought of both, offered up a thanksgiving that neither he nor Father Gervaise had done aught which was unworthy of the ideal of her girlhood's dream. Gathering up the reins, he urged Shulamite to a rapid trot. There must be no lingering by the way. Hasten, Shulamite! Even now the sluice-gates may be opening.
In the sanctuary of her girlhood's highest hopes, Elizabeth sobbed out her disappointments and acknowledged to herself that life had tricked her into a sorry network of doubts and unsettled mysteries. For the first time she sunk her pride and let Susan think what she would of her prolonged absence, and went openly to the kitchen to bathe her face in Nathan's familiar tin basin.
"No!" she said "I would not be a traitor to you in so much as a thought! Had I loved anyone else I would never have married you, no! though you had been ten times a prince and king! No! You do not understand. I come to you heartwhole and passionless, without a single love-word chronicled in my girlhood's history, or a single incident you may not know.
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