But if only it had appeared marvellous, the throbbing woman might have seized on it, as a thing fateful, an intervention distinctly designed to waken the best in her, which was, after all, the strongest.  Yea, she could hope and pray and believe it was the strongest.

She was listening to Isabella Lawrence Finchley, wishing she might have followed to some end the above line of her meditations.

Mrs. Lawrence was changed, much warmer, pressing to be more than merely friendly.  Aminta twice gave her cheek for kisses.  The secretary had spoken of Mrs. Lawrence as having the look of a handsome boy; and Aminta’s view of her now underwent a change likewise.  Compunction, together with a sisterly taste for the boyish fair one flying her sail independently, and gallantly braving the winds, induced her to kiss in return.

‘You do like me a morsel?’ said Mrs. Lawrence.  ’I fell in love with you the last time I was here.  I came to see Mr. Secretary—­it’s avowed; and I have been thinking of you ever since, of no one else.  Oh yes, for a man; but you caught me.  I’ve been hearing of him from Captain May.  They fence at those rooms.  And it ’s funny, Mr. Morsfield practises there, you know; and there was a time when the lovely innocent Amy, Queen of Blondes, held the seat of the Queen of Brunes.  Ah, my dear, the infidelity of men doesn’t count.  They are affected by the changeing moons.  As long as the captain is civil to him, we may be sure beautiful Amy has not complained.  Her husband is the pistol she carries in her pocket, and she has fired him twice, with effect.  Through love of you I have learnt the different opinion the world of the good has of her and of me; I thought we ran under a common brand.  There are gradations.  I went to throw myself at the feet of my great-aunt; good old great-aunt Lady de Culme, who is a power in the land.  I let her suppose I came for myself, and she reproached me with Lord Adder.  I confessed to him and ten others.  She is a dear, she’s ticklish, and at eighty-four she laughed!  She looked into my eyes and saw a field with never a man in it—­just the shadow of a man.  She admitted the ten cancelled the one, and exactly named to me, by comparison with the erring Amy, the sinner I am and must be, if I ’m to live.  So, dear, the end of it is,’ and Mrs. Lawrence put her fingers to a silken amber bow at Aminta’s throat, and squared it and flattened it with dainty precision, speaking on under dropped eyelids, intent upon her work, ’Lady de Culme will be happy to welcome you whenever it shall suit the Countess of Ormont to accompany her disreputable friend.  But what can I do, dear?’ She raised her lids and looked beseechingly.  ’I was born with this taste for the ways and games and style of men.  I hope I don’t get on badly with women; but if I ’m not allowed to indulge my natural taste, I kick the stable-boards and bite the manger.’

Aminta threw her arms round her, and they laughed their mutual peal.