e to be
associated with such relations. Under the old dispensation the influence
of the prince's mistress had stood for the last excesses of moral and
political corruption; why might it not, under the new law, come to
represent as unlimited a power for good?

So love, the casuist, argued; and during those first months, when
happiness seemed at last its own justification, Fulvia lived in every
fibre. But always, even then, she was on the defensive against that
higher tribunal which her own conception of life had created. In spite
of herself she was a child of the new era, of the universal reaction
against the falseness and egotism of the old social code. A standard of
conduct regulated by the needs of the race rather than by individual
passion, a conception of each existence as a link in the great chain of
human endeavour, had slowly shaped itself out of the wild theories and
vague "codes" of the eighteenth-century moralists; and with this sense
of the sacramental nature of human ties, came a renewed reverence for
moral and physical purity.

Fulvia was of those who require that their lives shall be an affirmation
of themselves; and the lack of inner harmony drove her to seek some
outward expression of her ideals. She threw herself with renewed passion
into the political struggle. The best, the only justification of her
power, was to use it boldly, openly, for the good of the people. All the
repressed forces of her nature were poured into this single channel. She
had no desire to conceal her situation, to disguise her influence over
Odo. She wished it rather to be so visible a factor in his relations
with his people that she should come to be regarded as the ultimate
pledge of his good faith. But, like all the casuistical virtues, this
position had the rigidity of something created to fit a special case;
and the result was a fixity of attitude, which spread benumbingly over
her whole nature. She was conscious of the change, yet dared not
struggle against it, since to do so was to confess the weakness of her
case. She had chosen to be regarded as a symbol rather than a woman, and
there were moments when she felt as isolated from life as some marble
allegory in its niche above the market-place.

It was the desire to associate herself with the Duke's public life that
had induced her, after much hesitation, to accept the degree which the
University had conferred on her. She had shared eagerly in the work of
reconstructing