much that any
heat of emotion, any lover's haste, urged him on; he had begun to be
fearful for his dignity, to be apprehensive of the whispers and smiles
of gossip, if Jenny played with him much longer. She had made up her
mind to accept him. Not only were there the decorative attractions and
the wider sphere of influence; she felt that in a marriage with him lay
safety. She was not afraid of him; it would be a partnership in which
she could amply hold her own--and more than that. The danger pointed out
in her father's warning--so congenial to her that it sank deep into her
own mind and was never absent from it--would here be reduced to a
minimum. There the attractions of the project stopped. She was not the
least in love with him; I do not think that she even considered him an
actively agreeable companion. An absence of dislike and a genuine esteem
for his honorable qualities--that was all she could muster for him. No
wonder, perhaps, that, though her head had decided, her heart still
pleaded for delay.

With Octon the case was very different. There she was fascinated, there
she was in thrall--so much in thrall that I am persuaded that she would
deliberately have sacrificed the attractions of the Fillingford
alliance, braved her neighbor's disapproval, imperiled the brilliant
fabric of popularity and power which she had been at such pains to
create--save for one thing. She was fascinated to love by the quality
which, above all others, she dreaded in marriage. In that great respect
wherein Fillingford was harmless, Octon was to her mind supremely to be
feared. The very difficulty she now felt in sending him away was earnest
of the dominion which he would exercise. Since he was a lover, no doubt
he made the usual lover's vows--or some of them; very likely he told her
that her will would be his law, or spoke more impassioned words to that
effect. Such protestations from his lips carried no conviction. The man
could not help being despotic. She was despotic, too. If he would not
yield, she could not answer for it that she would, and perhaps aspired
to no such abdication. Her foresight discerned, with fatal clearness,
the clash of their opposing forces, accentuated by the permanent
contrast of their tastes and dispositions. The master of Breysgate
Priory might again break Lady Aspenick's whip or insult the Mayor of
Catsford! Trifles from one point of view, but Jenny would not have such
things done. They were fatal to popula