Tell her I want her -- tell her she must come . She must hate me bitterly ; but I am punished enough to satisfy even her hate . Tell her to come to me for Chester 's sake . '' Cynthia did as she was bid , she sent her daughter , Jeanette , for Damaris . Then she waited . No matter what duties were calling for her at home she must see the interview between Thyra and Damaris . Her curiosity would be the last thing to fail Cynthia White . She had done very well all day ; but it would be asking too much of her to expect that she would consider the meeting of these two women sacred from her eyes . She half believed that Damaris would refuse to come . But Damaris came . Jeanette brought her in amid the fiery glow of a November sunset . Thyra stood up , and for a moment they looked at each other . The insolence of Damaris ' beauty was gone . Her eyes were dull and heavy with weeping , her lips were pale , and her face had lost its laughter and dimples . Only her hair , escaping from the shawl she had cast around it , gushed forth in warm splendor in the sunset light , and framed her wan face like the aureole of a Madonna . Thyra looked upon her with a shock of remorse . This was not the radiant creature she had met on the bridge that summer afternoon . This -- this -- was HER work . She held out her arms . `` Oh , Damaris , forgive me .
We both loved him -- that must be a bond XXXXX us for life . ''
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