ought to compensate the man she had loved for the treachery with which
she had used him. That treachery had been serviceable to him, but not
the less should the compensation be very rich. And she would love him
too. Ah! yes, she had always loved him. He should have it all now--every
thing, if only he would consent to forget that terrible episode in her
life, as she would strive to forget it. All that should remain to remind
them of Lord Ongar would be the wealth that should henceforth belong to
Harry Clavering. Such had been her dream, and Harry had come to her with
words of love which made it seem to be a reality. He had spoken to her
words of love which he was now forced to withdraw, and the dream was
dissipated. It was not to be allowed to her to escape her penalty so
easily as that! As for him, they were now quits. That being the case,
there could be no reason why they should quarrel.

But what now should she do with her wealth, and especially how should
she act in respect to that place down in the country? Though she had
learned to hate Ongar Park during her solitary visit there, she had
still looked forward to the pleasure the property might give her when
she should be able to bestow it upon Harry Clavering. But that had been
part of her dream, and the dream was now over. Through it all she had
been conscious that she might hardly dare to hope that the end of her
punishment should come so soon--and now she knew that it was not come.
As far as she could see, there was no end to the punishment in prospect
for her. From her first meeting with Harry Clavering on the platform of
the railway station, his presence, or her thoughts of him, had sufficed
to give some brightness to her life--had enabled her to support the
friendship of Sophie Gordeloup, and also to support her solitude when
poor Sophie had been banished. But now she was left without any
resource. As she sat alone, meditating on all this, she endeavored to
console herself with the repetition that, after all, she was the one
whom Harry loved--whom Harry would have chosen had he been free to
choose. But the comfort to be derived from that was very poor. Yes, he
had loved her once--nay, perhaps he loved her still. But when that love
was her own she had rejected it. She had rejected it, simply declaring
to him, to her friends, and to the world at large, that she preferred to
be rich. She had her reward, and, bowing her head upon her hands, she
acknowledged that th