But there was in her a thrilled expectation.

Not of a love, tranquil and serene, such as shone on her parents' lives, but of something overwhelming and tempestuous; into which she might fling her life as one flings a flower into the current of Niagara.
It was the suggestion of such a possibility that had drawn her first to Douglas Falloden.

For three golden days she had imagined herself blissfully in love with him.

Then had come disillusion and repulsion.
What was violent and imperious in him had struck on what was violent and imperious in her.

She had begun to hold him off--to resist him.