“So, in a kind of foolish defiance and mistrust of myself, I began flirting tremendously with a silly young marquis, [11]whom I heartily despised and disliked. I only favoured him when Tom Pendrill was present, for I wanted to make him jealous, and to feel my power over him. Coquetry is born in some women, I believe; I am sure it was born in me. I did not mean any harm. I never cared a bit for the creature. I cared for no one but the man I affected now to be tired of. But rumours got about. I suppose it would have been a very good match for me. People said I was going to marry the cub, and I only laughed when I heard the report. I was young, vain, and foolish enough to feel rather flattered than otherwise.”

[11]

She paused a moment, with another of those bitter-sweet smiles, and went on very quietly:

“Why are girls so badly brought up? [12]I was not bad at heart; but I was vain and frivolous. I loved to inflict pain of a kind upon others, till I played once too often with edge-tools, and have suffered for it ever since. Of course, Tom Pendrill heard these reports, and, of course, they angered him deeply; for I had given him every encouragement. He did not know the complex workings of a woman’s heart, her wild struggles for supremacy before she can be content to yield herself up for ever a willing sacrifice. He did not understand; how should he? I did not either till it was too late.

[12]

“I saw him once more alone. We were walking by the river one moonlight night. He was unlike himself—silent, moody, imperious. All of a sudden it burst out. He asked me almost fiercely if I would be [13]his wife—he almost claimed my promise as his right—said that I owed him that reparation for destroying his peace of mind. How my heart leapt as I heard those words. A torrent of love seemed to surge over me. I was terrified at the depth of feeling he had stirred up. I struggled with a sort of fury against being carried away by it, against betraying myself too unreservedly. I don’t remember what I said; I was terribly agitated. I believe in my confusion and bewilderment I said something disgusting about my rank and his—the difference between us. Then he cast that odious marquis in my teeth, supposed that the report he had heard was true, that I was going to sell myself for the reversion of a ducal coronet, since I thought so much of rank. I was furious; [14]all the more furious because I had brought it on myself, though, had he but known it, it was ungenerous to take me at a disadvantage, and cast my words back at me like 

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