On the next day he did not come to her at all, and she sat idle, wretched, and alone. She could not interest herself in Hetta's coming marriage, as that marriage was in direct opposition to one of her broken schemes. She had not ventured to confess so much to Mr. Broune, but she had in truth written the first pages of the first chapter of a second novel. It was impossible now that she should even look at what she had written. All this made her very sad. She spent the evening quite alone; for Hetta was staying down in Suffolk, with her cousin's friend, Mrs. Yeld, the bishop's wife; and as she thought of her life past and her life to come, she did, perhaps, with a broken light, see something of the error of her ways, and did, after a fashion, repent. It was all "leather or prunello," as she said to herself;--it was all vanity,--and vanity,--and vanity! What real enjoyment had she found in anything? She had only taught herself to believe that some day something would come which she would like;--but she had never as yet in truth found anything to like. It had all been in anticipation,--but now even her anticipations were at an end. 
On the next day he did not come, and she sat idle and wretched. She could not interest herself in Hetta's coming marriage. She had not ventured to confess so much to Mr. Broune, but she had in truth written the first pages of a second novel. It was impossible now to even look at what she had written. She spent the evening quite alone; for Hetta was staying down in Suffolk, with the bishop's wife; and as she thought of her life past and her life to come, she did, perhaps, see something of the error of her ways, and did, after a fashion, repent.
It was all vanity! What real enjoyment had she found in anything? She had taught herself to believe that some day something would come which she would like; but she had never yet in truth found anything to like. It had all been in anticipation, but now even her anticipations were at an end.
