ght fade in time, but
could never be effaced. Why had she not screamed and fainted like
Violet Avory? That, at any rate, was "womanly", she supposed. And what
was more repellent than the opposite quality in one of her own sex?

At the thought of Violet she was conscious of a bitter pang. What was
the talisman by which the latter was empowered to win all hearts--and
then to trample them underfoot in pretty scorn? Well, Violet had every
advantage. Her bright, piquant beauty and fascinating manner, her
consummate _savoir vivre_, her abundant and perfect taste, her knowledge
of society, of England and the Continent--all these things counted, she
supposed. Violet was born and bred in England, and had had the
advantages of society and travel; whereas she, Marian, had never been
outside the Colony, and had spent most of her life on a frontier farm.
Be it remembered, nevertheless, that she who thus secretly ruminated, to
her own disparagement, was no mere shy, awkward, diffident school-girl,
but a peculiarly winsome, refined, and gracious-mannered woman. And
then she would awake to a consciousness that the very fact of indulging
in such comparisons between herself and Violet was not a little
contemptible. For the broad, reflective mind of Marian Selwood, though
possessing its proper share of pride, held no corner wherein might lurk
the meaner vice of envy. Whereby she stood confessed an anomaly among
her sex.

When Sellon and his host returned from their temporary absence, the
former displayed more feeling at the thought of the horrible peril
incurred by Violet than those among whom his lines were at present cast
would have given him credit for, and in pursuance of this vein he could
not sufficiently extol the promptness of resource and cool bravery
displayed by Renshaw. And again and again he found himself wondering at
the extraordinary coincidence involved in his being brought to this
place by Fanning of all men in the world. It was pretty rough on poor
Fanning that he should be the means of cutting his own throat. But he
had certainly behaved splendidly since, thought Maurice. He had
evidently recognised, and that unmistakably, who had the prior claim,
and the perfect good taste with which he had withdrawn was worthy of all
praise. And in a fit of generous self-complacency the holder of the
winning cards felt inclined to blame Violet for having given any
encouragement to his now discomfited rival.

What, ho