art;
that remained a closed door to him. But supposing that her friends were
right, and that she was too cold by nature ever to feel the ecstasies
which transfigure life for some women, should she therefore shut herself
out from ordinary domestic joys and interests? Because she was incapable
of attaining to the ideal, must the commonplace pleasures of the real
also be denied her? If the best was not for her, would it not be wise to
accept the second-best, and extract as much happiness from it as
possible? Moreover, she knew that Cecil was right when he said that she
could make of him whatsoever she wished; and this was no slight
temptation to a woman who loved power as much as Elisabeth loved it.

There was also another consideration which had some weight with her; and
that was the impression, gradually gaining strength in her mind, that
Cecil Farquhar was George Farringdon's son. She could take no steps in
the way of proving this just then, as Christopher was away for his
holiday somewhere in the Black Forest, and nothing could be done without
him; but she intended, as soon as he returned, to tell him of her
suspicion, and to set him to discover whether or not Cecil was indeed
the lost heir. Although it never seriously occurred to Elisabeth to hold
her peace upon this matter and so keep her fortune to herself, she was
still human enough not altogether to despise a course of action which
enabled her to be rich and righteous at the same time, and to go on with
her old life at the Willows and her work among the people at the
Osierfield, even after George Farringdon's son had come into his own.

Although the balance of Elisabeth's judgment was upon the side of Cecil
Farquhar and his suit, she could not altogether stifle--try as she
might--her sense of disappointment at finding how grossly poets and
such people had exaggerated the truth in their description of the
feeling men call love. It was all so much less exalted and so much more
commonplace than she had expected. She had long ago come to the
conclusion--from comparisons between Christopher and the men who had
wanted to marry her--that a man's friendship is a better thing than a
man's love; but she had always clung to the belief that a woman's love
would prove a better thing than a woman's friendship: yet now she
herself was in love with Cecil--at least he said that she was, and she
was inclined to agree with him--and she was bound to admit that, as an
emotion, this f