On the contrary, it was one of the things which
held him to her most.

In a sense he was even loyal to her. Harry was not one of those
extravagant Don Juans who made conquests solely for the gratification of
their vanity by adding to their collection. Essentially cool and
calculating, he used his attractiveness only when he thought it would be
of some genuine value to him, or some real satisfaction. As a Lovelace
he was economical.

Though a great connoisseur of feminine charm and beauty, and
superficially susceptible and excitable, with all this, as many women
knew, Harry was as hard as nails.

Valentia was the only woman for whom he had ever felt, besides the
physical attraction, a kind of indulgent tenderness. This was partly, no
doubt, because they had been fond of each other as children, and because
of a racial sympathy, a _sentiment de famille_ due to their
relationship. But it was not really to be depended on.

No one could be a more charmingly devoted lover than Harry. There was no
one like him for little attentions and inattentions, charming little
thoughts, caressing words, and the little jealous scenes that women
value. It was not the mere mechanically experienced love-making that
women see through and to which they often prefer a clumsy sincerity. It
was natural, spontaneous. He had, in fact, a genius for love-making, but
he had not, like Romer, a genius for love. Harry had all the gift of
expression--poor Romer had only the gift of feeling.

But notwithstanding Harry's magnetism, a woman once disillusioned by him
was disillusioned for ever. Women never forgave him. His romances
generally ended suddenly, and always irrevocably.

* * * * *

Harry had no great love of truth in the abstract, but, at least, he
never deceived himself. He saw through his own unscrupulousness, and
rather despised it just as he despised his own work as a painter. He had
grown really fond of Van Buren for the simple, sincere qualities in
which Harry knew himself to be deficient; and the American's
whole-hearted admiration--almost infatuation--for him gave Harry the
pleasure one feels in the frank devotion of a child. It touched him,
even while he intended to make use of it, because it was his nature to
make use of everything. It is an infallible sign of the second-rate in
nature and intellect to make use of everything and every one. The genius
is incapable of making use of people. It is for the second-