ver offended her taste or
jarred on her feelings; she would be absolutely safe with him, he would
gratify almost every mood and satisfy almost every aspiration.

Dealing very plainly with herself, formulating the question that she
could not put to Morewood, she asked whether she would not rather go as a
wife to Marchmont than to any other man she had met, whether Quisante or
another. She had been, perhaps still was, more nearly in love with Weston
Marchmont than with anybody else. But the "almosts" were obstinate; the
nearly had never become the quite; she did not tell herself that it never
could; on the contrary she recognised (though here she was inclined to
shirk the probe) that if she married another, she might well awake to
find herself loving Marchmont; she knew that she would not like Marchmont
to love another woman. So far she carried her inquiry: then she grew in a
way sick and disgusted with this exposure of her inmost feelings. She
would not proceed to ask why precisely she could not say yes to Marchmont
without being sensible of a loss greater than the gain. All she knew was
that she would not think of becoming Quisante's wife if that were not the
only way of getting all she wanted from Quisante. The wifehood she looked
on as a means to something else, to what she could hardly say; in itself
she did not desire it.

Lady Richard's prayer was answered--no thanks to herself or her hints, no
thanks either to Mrs. Baxter's motherly remonstrance or to Morewood's
blunt speech. It was May herself who sent Quisante away. A thrill of
relief ran round the table when he announced at dinner that if Lady
Richard would excuse him he would leave by the early train. Excuse him!
She would have hired a balloon to take him if he had declared a
preference for that form of locomotion. But she expressed the proper
regret and the proper interest in the reason (the pretext she called it
in her own mind) for his departure. It appeared that a very large and
important Meeting was to be held at Manchester; two Cabinet ministers
were to be there; Quisante was invited to be the third speaker. He
explained that he felt it would be a mistake to refuse the invitation,
and the acceptance of it entailed a quiet day or two in London with his
Blue-books and his papers. As he put it, the whole thing sounded like an
excuse; Lady Richard hoped that it covered a retreat and that the retreat
was after a decisive repulse from May Gaston. Even Dick was