A love such as had grown unbidden and unconsciously in Madge’s heart could not be content with the meagre reward of a little admiration.  Such an affection was softening and ennobling in its character, and the mere desire to compel Graydon to glance at her as she had seen him look at Miss Wildmere grew into the higher ambition to become such a woman as would approach in some degree his ideal.  She knew his tastes, and as she thought over the past she believed she could gauge his character as could no other.  She soon recognized that he was not an exceptional man, that she was not worshipping a hero.  He himself would be the last one to claim pre-eminence among his fellows.  But his genial, open nature, his physical strength, and his generous, kindly impulses made him an eminently lovable man, and—­well, she loved him, and believed she ever should.  Frail and defective in almost every respect herself, she would have thought it absurd to cherish some lofty and impossible ideal.  He was hearty, wholesome, honest, and she soon began to see that it would be a better and a nobler thing—­a nearer approach to happiness—­to become a woman whom he could trust and respect than merely to win a little admiration as a tribute to ephemeral beauty.

She would attain beauty if she could, but it should be the appendage, the ornament of mind and character.  She, who had seemed to him weakness itself, would aim to suggest eventually that noblest phase of strength—­woman’s patience and fortitude.

It must not be supposed that Madge reached these conclusions in days, weeks, or even months.  Her final purposes were the result of slow, half-conscious growth.  Right, brave action produced right feeling, and there are few better moral tonics than developing health.  With richer, better blood came truer, higher, and more unselfish thoughts.  She found that she could not only live, but that vigorous, well-directed life is in itself enjoyment.  It was a pleasure to breathe the pure, balmy air, even when reclining in a carriage or a sail-boat, and as she gained strength sufficient for exercise, she soon became aware of the rich physical rewards that wait upon it.  Slowly at first, but with an increasing impetus, she advanced toward health, the condition of all genuine life.  She at last exchanged her carriage for a saddle-horse.

Mr. Wayland had one taste in which his wife did not share—­a love for horseback exercise, which, indeed, was one of the chief characteristics of the community.  Madge knew that Graydon was extremely fond of a good horse, and that he rode superbly.  To become his equal therefore in this respect was one of the chief dreams of her ambition.  It was with almost a sense of terror that she mounted at first, but Mr. Wayland was considerate.  Her horse was only permitted to walk, and she was taken off as soon as she was weary.  Confidence increased rapidly, and eventually she became fearless and almost tireless.  The beach was like a smooth, hard road-bed,