must, perforce, if needs be, marry
the man who is chosen for her. But leaving parental authority out of the
question, a girl with brick-red hair and a multitude of freckles need not
be considered when an agreeable, handsome man offers himself as a husband.
She usually is willing to the point of eagerness. That is the manner in
which I had thought about Dorothy Vernon, if I considered her at all. But
when a man is about to offer himself to a goddess, he is apt to pause. In
such a case there are always two sides to the question, and nine chances
to one the goddess will coolly take possession of both. When I saw Dorothy
in the courtyard of The Peacock, I instantly knew that she was a girl to
be taken into account in all matters wherein she was personally concerned.
Her every feature, every poise and gesture, unconsciously bore the stamp
of "I will" or "I will not."

Walking by Dorothy's side, holding her hand, was a fair young woman whose
hair was black, and whose skin was of the white, clear complexion such as
we see in the faces of nuns. She walked with a hesitating, cautious step,
and clung to Dorothy, who was gentle and attentive to her. But of this
fair, pale girl I have so much to say in the pages to come that I shall
not further describe her here.

When the ladies had entered the inn, my companion and I dismounted, and
Manners exclaimed:--

"Did you see the glorious girl who but now entered the inn door? Gods! I
never before saw such beauty."

"Yes," I replied, "I know her."

"How fortunate I am," said Sir John. "Perhaps I may induce you to present
me to her. At least you will tell me her name, that I may seek her
acquaintance by the usual means. I am not susceptible, but by my faith,
I--I--she looked at me from the door-steps, and when I caught her eyes it
seemed--that is, I saw--or I felt a stream of burning life enter my soul,
and--but you will think I am a fool. I know I am a fool. But I feel as if
I were--as if I had been bewitched in one little second of time, and by a
single glance from a pair of brown eyes. You certainly will think I am a
fool, but you cannot understand--"

"Why can't I understand?" I asked indignantly. "The thing you have seen
and felt has been in this world long enough for every man to understand.
Eve used it upon Adam. I can't understand? Damme, sir, do you think I am a
clod? I have felt it fifty times."

"Not--" began Sir John, hesitatingly.

"Nonsense!" I replied. "You, too, wi