sition in the next, Lizzie did not doubt that the
Beaminsters would once more take Francis Breton into their ranks. It was
the Duchess who held the gate against him.

The romantic side of her did not hold complete dominion. She knew that
were Francis Breton once more accepted by the family, his distance from
her would be greatly increased. Were he, on the other hand, to marry
her whilst he was yet an exile, then had she no fear of after
consequences. She could hold her own with anyone.

She had now very little doubt that he loved her. She had seen, during
the last year, the flame of some passion burning in his eyes,
increasingly he depended upon her and found opportunities for being with
her. There was no other woman whom he saw, of that she was convinced.

Often he had been about to tell her some secret and then had refrained;
she thought that he was waiting until he could be quite assured that she
loved him, and she had fancied that since that day in last December when
the first snow had fallen and they had had that little talk together he
had been much happier, as though he were now convinced of her love for
him.

The spring passed and still his confession did not come. With the early
summer he seemed to be once more unhappy and unsettled, and throughout
May she scarcely saw him.

Then in July he asked her whether she would dine with him and go to the
theatre. He had two dress circle tickets for _Mrs. Lemiter's Decision_.

Something told her that on this evening he would speak to her.

As she dressed her fingers trembled so that buttons and hooks and laces
were of terrible difficulty. In the glass she saw her cheeks flaming;
she wished she were taller, not so sturdy. The lines of her face, she
thought, were all so set as though they knew well for what purpose they
were there. "Business _we're_ here for ..." they seemed to say.

For once she envied her sister's fair rounded fluffiness. Her black
evening dress was fashionable, almost smart, but just a little stern:
she fastened some dark red carnations into her waist and hung around her
throat a chain of tiny pearls, her only piece of jewellery. Her hair was
restrained and disciplined--she could not extract from it any waves or
soft indulgencies.

At the end, staring at her reflection, she let herself go.

"He's seen me all this time as I am. How silly to try to alter things!"
Her face glowed, the pearls and carnations seemed to smile encouragement
to her.