age slowly advancing, she thought "I _am_ beautiful"--not
exultingly, but with grave decision. Being beautiful was after all the
condition on which she most needed external testimony. If any one
objected to the turn of her nose or the form of her neck and chin, she
had not the sense that she could presently show her power of attainment
in these branches of feminine perfection.

There was not much time to fill up in this way before the sound of
wheels, the loud ring, and the opening doors assured her that she was
not by any accident to be disappointed. This slightly increased her
inward flutter. In spite of her self-confidence, she dreaded Klesmer as
part of that unmanageable world which was independent of her
wishes--something vitriolic that would not cease to burn because you
smiled or frowned at it. Poor thing! she was at a higher crisis of her
woman's fate than in her last experience with Grandcourt. The
questioning then, was whether she should take a particular man as a
husband. The inmost fold of her questioning now was whether she need
take a husband at all--whether she could not achieve substantially for
herself and know gratified ambition without bondage.

Klesmer made his most deferential bow in the wide doorway of the
antechamber--showing also the deference of the finest gray kerseymere
trousers and perfect gloves (the 'masters of those who know' are
happily altogether human). Gwendolen met him with unusual gravity, and
holding out her hand said, "It is most kind of you to come, Herr
Klesmer. I hope you have not thought me presumptuous."

"I took your wish as a command that did me honor," said Klesmer, with
answering gravity. He was really putting by his own affairs in order to
give his utmost attention to what Gwendolen might have to say; but his
temperament was still in a state of excitation from the events of
yesterday, likely enough to give his expressions a more than usually
biting edge.

Gwendolen for once was under too great a strain of feeling to remember
formalities. She continued standing near the piano, and Klesmer took
his stand near the other end of it with his back to the light and his
terribly omniscient eyes upon her. No affectation was of use, and she
began without delay.

"I wish to consult you, Herr Klesmer. We have lost all our fortune; we
have nothing. I must get my own bread, and I desire to provide for my
mamma, so as to save her from any hardship. The only way I can think
of--and