'I suppose I always meant to marry him,' she thought, pausing in her
promenade to gaze across the verdant landscape, a fertile vale, against
a background of low hills. All the landscape, to the edge of those
hills, belonged to Mr. Smithson. 'Yes, I must have meant to give way at
last, or I should hardly have tolerated his attentions. It would have
been a pity to refuse such a place as this; and, he is quite
gentlemanlike; and as I have done with all romantic ideas, I do not see
why I should not learn to like him very much.'

She dismissed the idea of Smithson lightly, with this conclusion, which
she believed very virtuous; and then as she resumed her walk her
thoughts reverted to the Park Lane Palace.

'I hardly know whether I like it,' she mused languidly; 'beautiful as it
is, it is only a reproduction of bygone splendour, and it is painfully
excruciating now. For my own part I would much rather have the shabbiest
old house which had belonged to one's ancestors, which had come to one
as a heritage, by divine right as it were, instead of being bought with
newly made money. To my mind it would rank higher. Yet I doubt if
anybody nowadays sets a pin's value upon ancestors. People ask, Who is
he? but they only mean, How much has he? And provided a person is not
absolutely in trade, not actually engaged in selling soap, or matches,
or mustard, society doesn't care a straw how his money has been made.
The only secondary question is, How long will it last? And that is of
course important.'

Musing thus, wordly wisdom personified, the maiden looked up and saw her
lover entering at the light little iron gate which gave entrance to this
feminine Eden. She went to meet him, looking all simplicity and
freshness in her white morning gown and neat little Dunstable hat. It
seemed to him as he gazed at her almost as if this delicate, sylph-like
beauty were some wild white flower of the woods personified.

She gave him her hand graciously, but he drew her to his breast and
kissed her, with the air of a man who was exercising an indisputable
right. She supposed that it was his right, and she submitted, but
released herself as quickly as possible.

'My dearest, how lovely you look in this morning light,' he exclaimed,
'while all the other women are upstairs making up their faces to meet
the sun, and we shall see every shade of bismuth by-and-by, from pale
mauve to purple.'

'It is very uncivil of you to say such a thing of your gu