t to detain
her, but she was gone; his thoughts were as follows:--

'Charming girl! yes, she is charming: of a truthful, noble, trusting
nature; still too _prononcee_ for a woman. I scarcely think I love, much
as I must admire that sort of girl; and as a wife, I should be afraid of
her. Yet she provokes me, interests me. She is jealous of those Nugents,
and if she doesn't take care, they will cut her out, mother and
daughter, with their manoeuvres and wax; and she will be heiress of
Glanyravon no longer. Better the waxen heiress, Miss Nugent, with thirty
thousand pounds in possession in some thirty-six hours, than the iron
heiress, Miss Gwynne, with Glanyravon _in futuro_.

'Moreover, the one may be moulded into any shape one pleases--the other
must have her own opinion, and her own way, unless a man beat her into
subjection. Certainly, few people were ever more fortunately, or
perplexingly placed, than I am just now.

'Between two young women, handsome, rich, of good family; if I mistake
not, in love with me, and to be had for the asking. But if I married
Freda, Mr Gwynne would marry Lady Nugent directly; and then one could
tell what would become of the property. If, on the other hand, I were to
marry Miss Nugent, I should incur the utmost contempt of which Miss
Gwynne is capable, and should not wholly esteem myself. But why am I
thinking of marrying at all? Because I am forty years old, and found a
grey hair in my whiskers yesterday; because I am tired of an unsettled
life, and should like to clear off the old place, and end my days there;
and because, after all, a married man has a better position than a
single one. If that girl Gladys were in the place of either heiress, I
would not hesitate a moment. I declare she would grace a coronet; no
wonder all the young men round are in love with her. And yet, meet her
when I will, I can scarcely get more than 'yes,' and 'no,' out of her.

'It is utterly impossible she can be what she seems, or is supposed to
be. I never saw more thoroughly aristocratic beauty in our most
aristocratic circles. Miss Nugent is as handsome as a woman can well be,
in form and feature; but her eyes are like two frozen pools, whereas
this Gladys, are literally two deep blue lakes with stars shining into
them, or out of them, or something or other that a poet would describe
better than I do. Well, what a fool I am! "A dream of fair women," in my
fortieth year, just as I dreamt of them in my sixt