r diffidence and her vanity fought over that question; fought
furiously, and with an ugly tenacity. It seemed that the vanity
conquered. For she resolved to make the trial.

Many striking advantages were on her side. She could give any man a
magnificent social position, could take him into the heart of the great
world. Her husband, unless he were absolutely impossible--and of course
he would not be--would be welcomed everywhere because of her. She was
rich. She had unusual charm. She was quick witted, intelligent, well
read, full of tact and knowledge of the world. Surely she could be a
splendid companion, even a great aid, to any man of the least ambition.
And she was still very handsome--with difficulty.

She and her Greek alone knew exactly how much trouble had to be taken to
keep her as she was when she went among people.

She had not been able to do much with her mind. It seemed uncontrollable
by her. There was no harmony in her inner life. The diversities within
her were sharp, intense. In her kingdom of self there was perpetual
rebellion. And the disorder in her moral life had hastened the aging
process more even than she was aware of. Underneath the artificial
beauty of her appearance she was now older than her years.

But she was still very handsome--with difficulty.

She hardened herself after the fight and resolved that, if she chose,
she could still make almost any man love her. That she could easily
fascinate she knew. Most people were subject to her easy charm and to
the delightfully unaffected manner which no amount of vanity had ever
been able to rid her of. Surely the temporarily fascinated man might
easily be changed into the permanent lover! Fear assailed her certainly
when she thought of the danger of deliberately contrasting with her
maturity the vividness of youth. To do what she thought of doing would
be to run a great risk. When she had married Lord Sellingworth she had
provided herself with a foil to her beauty and to her comparative
youth. To marry a young man would be to make herself the foil. He would
emphasize her age by his lack of years. Could she dare it?

Again she hardened herself and resolved that she would dare it. The
wildness in her came uppermost, rose to recklessness. After me the
deluge! She might not be happy long if she married a young husband,
but she might be happy for a time. The mere marriage would surely be a
triumph for her. And if she had three years, two years, eve