point of
view?

Perhaps there had been a particle of truth in the charge so solemnly
levelled at her by Mr. Sylvester: it was a false position that she
maintained.

The attitude of Lady Garnett and her intimates, of persons (the
phrase of Steele's recurred to her as meeting it appropriately) "who
had seen the world enough to undervalue it with good breeding," must
seem to her at last a little sterile when she was conscious--never
more than now--of how clearly and swiftly the healthy young blood
coursed through her veins, dissipating any morbid imaginations that
she might feel inclined to cherish. She looked out at life, in her
conviction that so little of it had yet been lived, that for her it
might easily be a long affair, with eyes which were still full of
interest and, to a certain degree, of hope; and this did not detract
from at least one "impossible loyalty," from which it seemed to her
she would never waver. And Charles Sylvester's infelicitous proposal
recurred to her, and she was forced to ask herself whether, after
all, it was quite so infelicitous as it seemed. Might not some sort
of solution to the difficulties which oppressed her be offered by
that alliance? Conscientiously she considered the question, and for
a long time; but with the closest consideration the prospect refused
to cheer her, remained singularly uninviting. And yet, arid as the
notion appeared of a procession hand-in-hand through life with a
husband so soberly precise, to the tune of political music, she was
still hardly decided upon her answer when she at length reluctantly
left her comfortable fire and composed herself to sleep.

It was not until a day or two later that a prolonged visit from the
subject of these hesitations reminded her--perhaps more forcibly
than before--that, however in his absence she might oscillate, in
his actual presence a firm negative was, after all, the only answer
which could ever suffice.

At the close of what seemed a singularly long afternoon, during
which her aunt, who was confined to her room with a bad headache,
had left to her the burden of entertaining, Mary came to this
conclusion.

Mr. Sylvester had come with the first of her callers, and had made
no sign of moving when the last had gone. And in the silence, a
little portentous, which had ensued when they were left together,
the girl had read easily the reason of his protracted stay. She
glanced furtively, with a suggestion of weariness in her