had gained in attractiveness; the refinement which made them an index
to his character was more noticeable at the first glance, or perhaps
she was better able to distinguish it. The slight bluntness in his
manner reminded her of the moral force which she had known only as
something to be resisted; it was now one of the influences that drew
her to him. Had she not always admitted that he stood far above the
other men of his class whom she used to know? Between his mind and hers
there was distinct kinship; the sense that he had both power and right
to judge her explained in a great measure her attitude of defiance
towards him when she was determined to break away from her humble
conditions. All along, had not one of her main incentives to work and
strive been the resolve to justify herself in _his_ view, to prove to
_him_ that she possessed talent, to show herself to _him_ as one whom
the world admired? The repugnance with which she thought of meeting
him, when she came home with her father, meant in truth that she
dreaded to be assured that he could only shrink from her. All her vital
force-setting in this wild current, her self-deception complete, she
experienced the humility of supreme egoism--that state wherein self
multiplies its claims to pity in passionate support of its demand for
the object of desire. She felt capable of throwing herself at Sidney's
feet, and imploring him not to withdraw from her the love of which he
had given her so many assurances. She gazed at her scarred face until
the image was blurred with tears; then, as though there were luxury in
weeping, sobbed for an hour, crouching down in a corner of her room.
Even though his love were as dead as her beauty, must lib not be struck
to the heart with compassion, realising her woeful lot? She asked
nothing more eagerly than to humiliate herself before him, to confess
that her pride was broken. Not a charge he could bring against her but
Bile would admit its truth. Had she been humble enough last night? When
he came again--and he must soon--she would throw aside every vestige of
dignity, lest he should think that she was strong enough to bear her
misery alone. No matter how poor-spirited she seemed, if only she could
move his sympathies.

Poor rebel heart! Beat for beat, in these moments it matched itself
with that of the purest woman who surrenders to a despairing love. Had
one charged her with insincerity, how vehemently would her conscience
have de