I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. Already she had sent him twenty pounds, and never written to explain to him why it was she had not sent it back sharply directly he returned it. Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return. It takes too many years to climb even a step in the social ladder. Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead.
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