He saw it now with sharp distinctness,--now that every perception was intensified by pain and longing.
Then, as he went over the past, he saw how this consciousness had been gradually invaded and broken up by his sister's letters.

He remembered the incredulous impatience with which he had read the earlier ones.

So, Marie thought him mistaken! 'Isabel Bretherton would be an actress yet'-- 'she had genius, after all'-- 'she was learning, growing, developing every day.' Absurd! _He_, had been able to keep his critical estimate of the actress and his personal admiration of the woman separate from one another.

But evidently Marie's head had been confused, misled, by her heart.

And then, little by little, his incredulity had yielded, and his point of view had changed.