f the very
alphabet of the courts, had thy wig been allotted to me, I might have
gathered guineas thick as daisies in summer, while to thee perhaps
they come no faster than snow-drops in the early spring. It is all
in our destiny. Chance had thrown that terrible earl in the way of
the poor girl in her early youth, and she had married him. She had
married him, and all idea of love had flown from her heart. All idea
of love, but not all the capacity--as now within this last year or
two she had learned, so much to her cost.

Long months had passed since she had first owned this to herself,
since she had dared to tell herself that it was possible even for her
to begin the world again, and to play the game which women love to
play, once at least before they die. She could have worshipped this
man, and sat at his feet, and endowed him in her heart with heroism,
and given him her soft brown hair to play with when it suited her
Hercules to rest from his labours. She could have forgotten her
years, and have forgotten too the children who had now grown up to
seize the world from beneath her feet--to seize it before she herself
had enjoyed it. She could have forgotten all that was past, and have
been every whit as young as her own daughter. If only--!

It is so, I believe, with most of us who have begun to turn the hill.
I myself could go on to that common that is at this moment before me,
and join that game of rounders with the most intense delight. "By
George! you fellow, you've no eyes; didn't you see that he hadn't
put his foot in the hole. He'll get back now that long-backed,
hard-hitting chap, and your side is done for the next half-hour!" But
then they would all be awestruck for a while; and after that, when
they grew to be familiar with me, they would laugh at me because
I loomed large in my running, and returned to my ground scant of
breath. Alas, alas! I know that it would not do. So I pass by,
imperious in my heavy manhood, and one of the lads respectfully
abstains from me though the ball is under my very feet.

But then I have had my game of rounders. No horrible old earl with
gloating eyes carried me off in my childhood and robbed me of the
pleasure of my youth. That part of my cake has been eaten, and, in
spite of some occasional headache, has been digested not altogether
unsatisfactorily. Lady Desmond had as yet been allowed no slice of
her cake. She had never yet taken her side in any game of rounders.
But she