an. Man, indeed, may hope for an empire. It
is something to be a Pitt, or even a Warren Hastings."

Mr. Vernon stared. Was this stupidity, or what?

"A woman has an empire more undisputed than Mr. Pitt's, and more
pitiless than that of Governor Hastings."

"Oh, pardon me, Mr. Vernon--"

"Charles, if you please."

Lucretia's brow darkened.

"Pardon me," she repeated; "but these compliments, if such they are
meant to be, meet a very ungrateful return. A woman's empire over gauzes
and ribbons, over tea-tables and drums, over fops and coquettes, is not
worth a journey from Laughton to London."

"You think you can despise admiration?"

"What you mean by admiration,--yes."

"And love too?" said Vernon, in a whisper.

Now Lucretia at once and abruptly raised her eyes to her partner. Was he
aiming at her secret? Was he hinting at intentions of his own? The look
chilled Vernon, and he turned away his head.

Suddenly, then, in pursuance of a new train of ideas, Lucretia altered
her manner to him. She had detected what before she had surmised.
This sudden familiarity on his part arose from notions her uncle had
instilled,--the visitor had been incited to become the suitor. Her
penetration into character, which from childhood had been her passionate
study, told her that on that light, polished, fearless nature scorn
would have slight effect; to meet the familiarity would be the best
means to secure a friend, to disarm a wooer. She changed then her
manner; she summoned up her extraordinary craft; she accepted the
intimacy held out to her, not to unguard herself, but to lay open her
opponent. It became necessary to her to know this man, to have such
power as the knowledge might give her. Insensibly and gradually she led
her companion away from his design of approaching her own secrets or
character, into frank talk about himself. All unconsciously he began
to lay bare to his listener the infirmities of his erring, open heart.
Silently she looked down, and plumbed them all,--the frivolity, the
recklessness, the half gay, half mournful sense of waste and ruin.
There, blooming amongst the wrecks, she saw the fairest flowers of
noble manhood profuse and fragrant still,--generosity and courage and
disregard for self. Spendthrift and gambler on one side the medal;
gentleman and soldier on the other. Beside this maimed and imperfect
nature she measured her own prepared and profound intellect, and as she
listened, her smile beca