ad sent her noble
suitor away, not only dismissed, but so dismissed that he might be
taught never again to offer to her the sweet incense of his vows. She
had declared to him plainly that she did not love him and could not
love him, and had thus thrown away not only riches and honour and
high station, but more than that--much worse than that--she had flung
away from her the lover to whose love her warm heart clung. That her
love did cling to him, she knew even then, and owned more thoroughly
as soon as he was gone. So much her pride had done for her, and that
strong resolve that Lady Lufton should not scowl on her and tell
her that she had entrapped her son. I know it will be said of Lord
Lufton himself that, putting aside his peerage and broad acres, and
handsome, sonsy face, he was not worth a girl's care and love. That
will be said because people think that heroes in books should be so
much better than heroes got up for the world's common wear and tear.
I may as well confess that of absolute, true heroism there was only
a moderate admixture in Lord Lufton's composition; but what would
the world come to if none but absolute true heroes were to be thought
worthy of women's love? What would the men do? and what--oh! what
would become of the women? Lucy Robarts in her heart did not give her
dismissed lover credit for much more heroism than did truly appertain
to him;--did not, perhaps, give him full credit for a certain amount
of heroism which did really appertain to him; but, nevertheless, she
would have been very glad to take him could she have done so without
wounding her pride.

That girls should not marry for money we are all agreed. A lady who
can sell herself for a title or an estate, for an income or a set
of family diamonds, treats herself as a farmer treats his sheep and
oxen--makes hardly more of herself, of her own inner self, in which
are comprised a mind and soul, than the poor wretch of her own sex
who earns her bread in the lowest stage of degradation. But a title,
and an estate, and an income, are matters which will weigh in the
balance with all Eve's daughters--as they do with all Adam's sons.
Pride of place, and the power of living well in front of the world's
eye, are dear to us all;--are, doubtless, intended to be dear. Only
in acknowledging so much, let us remember that there are prices at
which these good things may be too costly. Therefore, being desirous,
too, of telling the truth in this matter