literature; he was perfectly aware that she struck
many persons as silent, shy and angular, while his own version of her
peculiarities was that she was like a figure on the _predella_ of an
early Italian painting or a mediaeval maiden wandering about a lonely
castle, with her lover gone to the Crusades. To his sense, Dora had but
one defect--her admiration for her mother was too undiscriminating. An
ardent young man may well be slightly vexed when he finds that a young
lady will probably never care for him so much as she cares for her
parent; and Raymond Bestwick had this added ground for chagrin, that
Dora had--if she chose to take it--so good a pretext for discriminating.
For she had nothing whatever in common with the others; she was not of
the same stuff as Mrs. Temperly and Effie and Tishy.

She was original and generous and uncalculating, besides being full of
perception and taste in regard to the things _he_ cared about. She knew
nothing of conventional signs or estimates, but understood everything
that might be said to her from an artistic point of view. She was formed
to live in a studio, and not in a stiff drawing-room, amid upholstery
horribly new; and moreover her eyes and her voice were both charming. It
was only a pity she was so gentle; that is, he liked it for himself, but
he deplored it for her mother. He considered that he had virtually
given that lady his word that he would not make love to her; but his
spirits had risen since his visit of three or four hours before. It
seemed to him, after thinking things over more intently, that a way
would be opened for him to return to Paris. It was not probable that in
the interval Dora would be married off to a prince; for in the first
place the foolish race of princes would be sure not to appreciate her,
and in the second she would not, in this matter, simply do her mother's
bidding--her gentleness would not go so far as that. She might remain
single by the maternal decree, but she would not take a husband who was
disagreeable to her. In this reasoning Raymond was obliged to shut his
eyes very tight to the danger that some particular prince might not be
disagreeable to her, as well as to the attraction proceeding from what
her mother might announce that she would 'do.' He was perfectly aware
that it was in Cousin Maria's power, and would probably be in her
pleasure, to settle a handsome marriage-fee upon each of her daughters.
He was equally certain that this h