and departed. Hester showed no signs of being
aware that anything unusual had happened. She made a little desultory
conversation. Mannering answered in monosyllables.

When at last he put his cup down he rose to go.

"You are quite sure, Hester," he said. "You have made up your mind?"

She, too, rose, and came over to him.

"You know that I am right," she answered, quietly. "The life you offer me
would be paradise, but I dare not even think of it. I may not do any good
here, perhaps I don't, but I can't come away."

"You are a true daughter of your sex," he said, smiling. "The keynote of
your life must be sacrifice."

"Perhaps we are not so unwise, after all," she answered, "for I think
that there are more happy women in the world than men."

"There are more, I think, who deserve to be, dear," he answered, holding
her hand for a moment. "Good-bye!"

Mannering walked in somewhat abstracted fashion to the corner of the
street, and signalled for a hansom. With his foot upon the step he
hesitated.

CHAPTER VII

THE DUCHESS'S "AT HOME"

"The perfect man," the Duchess murmured, as she stirred her tea, "does
not exist. I know a dozen perfect women, dear, dull creatures, and plenty
of men who know how to cover up the flaw. But there is something in the
composition of the male sex which keeps them always a little below the
highest pinnacle."

"It is purely a matter of concealment," her friend declared. "Women are
cleverer humbugs than men."

Borrowdean shrugged his shoulders.

"I know your perfect woman!" he remarked, softly. "You search for her
through the best years of your life, and when you have found her you
avoid her. That," he added, handing his empty cup to a footman, "is why
I am a bachelor."

The Duchess regarded him complacently.

"My dear Sir Leslie," she said, "I am afraid you will have to find a
better reason for your miserable state. The perfect woman would certainly
have nothing to do with you if you found her."

"On the contrary," he declared, confidently, "I am convinced that she
would find me attractive."

The Duchess shook her head.

"Your theory," she declared, "is antiquated. Like and unlike do not
attract. We seek in others the qualities which we strive most zealously
to develop in ourselves. I know a case in point."

"Good!" Sir Leslie remarked. "I like examples. The logic of them appeals
to me."

The Duchess half closed her eyes. For a moment she was silent. She seemed