dst of her many new duties she tried to forget the one who crossed the
pathway of her life, and then had suddenly left it. Not that she
altogether succeeded. Often in her quiet hours the picture of this man
as she had first seen him came back to her. Again she saw the pale face,
and the straight, erect form, while the memory of his cynical and
faithless words haunted her. Even yet she could not help admiring him.
No matter who might be in the room, his was the most striking figure; no
one, in spite of his cynicism, had been listened to as eagerly as he.
Even while she grew angry at the thought of his wagering to win her as
his wife, she wondered whether she had done right in driving him away.
She knew that he had been drunk when he had done it, knew, too, that
within a few weeks of the wedding he had confessed that he was marrying
her to win his wager, and to participate in her father's wealth. No, she
could not have done otherwise. Her self-respect, her woman's pride would
not have allowed her; moreover, his professions of reformation were only
a part of his plan for deceiving her. Within three days of the time when
he should have married her, he had, while drunk, allowed her picture to
be exhibited before a crowd of gaping rustics; he had uttered maudlin
words about her, and then fallen on the platform in a condition of
drunken imbecility. No, she had done right, and yet she felt sure that
he must have loved her. Besides, in spite of his vices, he was a
noteworthy man. There was something fine even in his cynicism, something
almost noble in his scorn for conventional morality.

Still, it was all over. He had paid for his vices and his deceit with
his own life. He had preferred to die in the turbid waters of the Thames
to living a life of uselessness and regret. She ought to forget him; but
she could not. Sometimes she upbraided herself for being the cause of
his death; but not often. She was too healthy-minded, too sane for that.
The man who could throw away his life because of what she had done,
could never have been one whom she could respect.

Her solace was in work, in living for the benefit of others, and to this
she gave her life. Little by little, as the leading families of the
county came to know her, they paid her many attentions. Instinctively
they realised that she was no ordinary woman, while her father's great
wealth added charm to her accomplishments. Before two years had passed
away more than one county