to pass that which is by no means
an uncommon incident in human history: a toleration for and finally a
strong attraction towards a nature that began by creating distrust, and
even dislike.

Hadria's instinct now was to hunt up reasons for desiring the society of
Professor Theobald, for the gladness that she felt at the prospect of
seeing him. She wished to explain to herself how it was that he had
become so prominent a figure in her life. It was surprising how rapidly
and how completely he had taken a central position. Her feeling towards
him, and her admiring affection for Professor Fortescue, were as
different as night from day. She shrank from comparing the two emotions,
because at the bottom of her heart, she felt how infinitely less fine
and sound was this latter attachment, how infinitely less to be
welcomed. If any one spoke disparagingly of Professor Theobald, Hadria's
instinct was to stand up for him, to find ingenious reasons for his
words or his conduct that threw upon him the most favourable light, and
her object was as much to persuade herself as to convince her
interlocutor. What the Professor had said this afternoon, had brought
her to a point whence she had to review all these changes and
developments of her feeling. She puzzled herself profoundly. In
remembering those few words, she was conscious of a little thrill
of--not joy (the word was too strong), but of something akin to it. She
thought--and then laughed at herself--that it had a resemblance to the
sensation that is caused to the mind by the suggestion of some new and
entrancingly interesting idea--say about astronomy! And if she consulted
her mere wishes in the matter, apart from all other considerations, she
would explore farther in this direction. Whether curiosity or sentiment
actuated her, she could not detect. It would certainly be deeply
exciting to find out what her own nature really was, and still more so
to gain greater insight into his. Was this heartless, cold-blooded? Or
was it that she felt a lurking capacity for a feeling stronger than--or
at any rate different from--any that she had hitherto felt? This was a
secret that she could not discover. Hadria gave a frightened start. Was
she finding herself to be bad in a way that she had never suspected? If
she could but fully and completely escape from tradition, so that her
judgment might be quite unhampered. Tradition seemed either to make
human beings blindly submissive, or to tempt