ome oppression. But it was not briefly told. It
ought not have been told at all; but I am human, so human. The time had
reached me when somebody _must know_, and the time had brought with
it into my sorrowful presence this same Robert Fairfield. I had barely
known him. An accidental introduction, a few dances at a ball, and
once--just once--a brief but serious talk at a summer-night concert. I
was nothing to him; he was every thing to me; I loved him, I love him.
But custom, and rightly, too, keeps a woman silent. He may know the
story of my miserable home life, but he does not know--and he must never
know--of the magnetic power which drew me toward him, made me tell my
story, and left me with a regret and a tenderness which has closed my
heart to any other who may chance to come.

[Illustration:
Miss Sophia Gilder,
(of the Inner Sisterhood.)]

* * * * *

VI

A Cold Gray Study.

* * * * *

A CASE OF COMPOUND FRACTURE.

Family Position, Wealth, and Personal Beauty are potent factors in the
mysterious make-up of a social success, but they are not omnipotent.
A woman may have this desirable trinity, and yet be as nothing in the
social world. In fact, she may be without one, two, or all three, and
yet achieve unaccountable success in a social way.

My first winter out was a flat failure. I did not lack wealth and family
position, but I was awkward and not beautiful; in short, ugly. But my
failure was not due to this lack of beauty, for other women far more
ugly than I outshone me in every way. _I did not know myself_.
There is the key to many a mystery. I tried to be like other women
and--failed. I had a little individuality of my own, but for a time did
not know it.

During that formative period I had one love-affair; at least, I did the
loving and Gerome Meadows did the "affair," for with him it was nothing
more. He was a man just a trifle above the average in looks and manners,
intellect--every thing. He was always attractive and agreeable. He was
always making a graceful effort to please, and He was--with me--always
successful. He was four and twenty, yet he was a genuine boy. He was
full of a boy's love and full of a boy's charming susceptibility. He was
responsive to the different natures of many women. He was peculiarly a
loveable man. He had diligently, conscientiously courted a goodly number
of these d