sportively
intimate. Her bearing had gained a little in maturity during the past
half year, but it was still with a blending of _naivete_ and capricious
affectation that she wrought her spell. Her dress was a miracle, and
inseparably a part of her; it was impossible to picture her in any
serious situation, so entirely was she a child of luxury and frivolous
concern. Exquisite as an artistic product of Society, she affected the
imagination not so much by her personal charm as through the perfume of
luxury which breathed about her. Egremont, with his radical tendencies
of thought, found himself marvelling as he regarded her; what a life
was hers! Compare it with that of some little work-girl in Lambeth,
such as he saw in the street--what spaces between those two worlds! Was
it possible that this dainty creation, this thing of material
omnipotence, would suffer decay of her sweetness and in the end die?
The reason took her side and revolted against law; it would be an
outrage if time or mischance laid hold upon her.

Yet there was something in Paula which he did not recognise. Since she
could formulate desires, few had found impression on her lips which
were not at once gratified; an exception caused her at first rather
astonishment than impatience. Such astonishment fell upon her when she
understood that Egremont's coming to Ullswater was not on her account.
In truth, she wished it had been, and from that moment the fates were
kind enough to notice Paula's poor little existence, and bid her
remember she was mortal. She took the admonition ill, and certainly it
was impertinent from her point of view. She had slight philosophy, but
out of that disappointment Paula by degrees drew an understanding that
she had had a glimpse of a strange world, that something of moment had
been at stake.

Egremont, standing in the rear of a chatting group, had all but dreamed
himself into oblivion of the present when he heard loud announcement of
'Mr. Dalmaine.' It was some time since he had met the Member for
Vauxhall. Looking upon the politician's well-knit frame, his
well-coloured face with its expression of shrewd earnestness, he for a
moment seemed to himself to shrink into insignificance. After sitting
opposite Dalmaine for an hour at the dinner-table, he was able to
regard the man again in what he deemed a true light. But the impression
made upon one by an object suddenly presented when the thought is busy
with far other things will