ll this
self-protective instinct was new; for good or ill she had advanced one
more step in not only the knowledge but the power of duplicity which is
so necessary in the conventional life of a woman.

Oh! did we but see! Could we but see! Here was a woman, dowered in her
youth with all the goods and graces in the power of the gods to bestow,
who fought against convention; and who yet found in convention the
strongest as well as the readiest weapon of defence.

For nearly two weeks Stephen's resolution was held motionless, neither
advancing nor receding; it was veritably the slack water of her
resolution. She was afraid to go on. Not afraid in sense of fear as it
is usually understood, but with the opposition of virginal instincts;
those instincts which are natural, but whose uses as well as whose powers
are unknown to us.

CHAPTER X--THE RESOLVE

The next few days saw Stephen abnormally restless. She had fairly well
made up her mind to test her theory of equality of the sexes by asking
Leonard Everard to marry her; but her difficulty was as to the doing it.
She knew well that it would not do to depend on a chance meeting for an
opportunity. After all, the matter was too serious to allow of the
possibility of levity. There were times when she thought she would write
to him and make her proffer of affection in this way; but on every
occasion when such thought recurred it was forthwith instantly abandoned.
During the last few days, however, she became more reconciled to even
this method of procedure. The fever of growth was unabated. At last
came an evening which she had all to herself. Miss Laetitia was going
over to Norwood to look after matters there, and would remain the night.
Stephen saw in her absence an opportunity for thought and action, and
said that, having a headache, she would remain at home. Her aunt offered
to postpone her visit. But she would not hear of it; and so she had the
evening to herself.

After dinner in her boudoir she set herself to the composition of a
letter to Leonard which would convey at least something of her feelings
and wishes towards him. In the depths of her heart, which now and again
beat furiously, she had a secret hope that when once the idea was
broached Leonard would do the rest. And as she thought of that 'rest' a
languorous dreaminess came upon her. She thought how he would come to
her full of love, of yearning passion; how she would try to keep towar