, in the case of young women, a trap for
inexperienced men. Rose, who had commanded and managed every one
surrounding her since infancy, how humble had she now become!--how much
more womanly in appearance, and more child-like at heart! She was as
wax in Lady Elburne's hands. A hint of that veiled episode, the Beckley
campaign, made Rose pliant, as if she had woven for herself a rod of
scorpions. The high ground she had taken; the perfect trust in one; the
scorn of any judgement, save her own; these had vanished from her. Rose,
the tameless heroine who had once put her mother's philosophy in action,
was the easiest filly that turbaned matron ever yet drove into the
straight road of the world. It even surprised Lady Jocelyn to see how
wonderfully she had been broken in by her grandmother. Her ladyship
wrote to Drummond to tell him of it, and Drummond congratulated her,
saying, however: 'Changes of this sort don't come of conviction. Wait
till you see her at home. I think they have been sticking pins into the
sore part.'

Drummond knew Rose well. In reality there was no change in her. She was
only a suppliant to be spared from ridicule: spared from the application
of the scourge she had woven for herself.

And, ah! to one who deigned to think warmly still of such a disgraced
silly creature, with what gratitude she turned! He might well suppose
love alone could pour that profusion of jewels at his feet.

Ferdinand, now Lord Laxley, understood the merits of his finger-nails
better than the nature of young women; but he is not to be blamed for
presuming that Rose had learnt to adore him. Else why did she like his
company so much? He was not mistaken in thinking she looked up to him.
She seemed to beg to be taken into his noble serenity. In truth she
sighed to feel as he did, above everybody!--she that had fallen so
low! Above everybody!--born above them, and therefore superior by grace
divine! To this Rose Jocelyn had come--she envied the mind of Ferdinand.

He, you may be sure, was quite prepared to accept her homage. Rose he
had always known to be just the girl for him; spirited, fresh, and
with fine teeth; and once tied to you safe to be staunch. They walked
together, rode together, danced together. Her soft humility touched
him to eloquence. Say she was a little hypocrite, if you like, when the
blood came to her cheeks under his eyes. Say she was a heartless minx
for allowing it to be bruited that she and Ferdinand wer