Margaret Lovell was of this description:  a woman fashioned to do both harm and good, and more of harm than of good; but never to sanction a scheme of evil or blink at it in alliance with another:  a woman, in contact with whom you were soon resolved to your component elements.  Separated from a certain fascination that there was for her in Edward’s acerb wit, she saw that he was doing a dastardly thing in cold blood.  We need not examine their correspondence.  In a few weeks she had contrived to put a chasm between them as lovers.  Had he remained in England, boldly facing his own evil actions, she would have been subjugated, for however keenly she might pierce to the true character of a man, the show of an unflinching courage dominated her; but his departure, leaving all the brutality to be done for him behind his back, filled this woman with a cutting spleen.  It is sufficient for some men to know that they are seen through, in order to turn away in loathing from her whom they have desired; and when they do thus turn away, they not uncommonly turn with a rush of old affection to those who have generously trusted them in the days past, and blindly thought them estimable beings.

Algernon was by no means gifted to perceive whether this was the case with his cousin in Paris.

CHAPTER XXIX

So long as the fool has his being in the world, he will be a part of every history, nor can I keep him from his place in a narrative that is made to revolve more or less upon its own wheels.  Algernon went to bed, completely forgetting Edward and his own misfortunes, under the influence of the opiate of the order for one thousand pounds, to be delivered to him upon application.  The morning found him calmly cheerful, until a little parcel was brought to his door, together with a note from Mrs. Lovell, explaining that the parcel contained those jewels, his precious gifts of what she had insultingly chosen to call “esteem” for her.

Algernon took it in his hand, and thought of flinging it through the window; but as the window happened to be open, he checked the impulse, and sent it with great force into a corner of the room:  a perfectly fool-like proceeding, for the fool is, after his fashion, prudent, and will never, if he can help it, do himself thorough damage, that he may learn by it and be wiser.

“I never stand insult,” he uttered, self-approvingly, and felt manlier.  “No; not even from you, ma’am,” he apostrophized Mrs. Lovell’s portrait, that had no rival now upon the wall, and that gave him a sharp fight for the preservation of his anger, so bewitching she was to see.  Her not sending up word that she wished him to come to her rendered his battle easier.

“It looks rather like a break between us,” he said.  “If so, you won’t find me so obedient to your caprices, Mrs. Margaret L.; though you are a pretty woman, and know it.  Smile away.  I prefer a staunch, true sort of a woman, after all.  And the colonies it must be, I begin to suspect.”  This set him conjuring before his eyes the image of Rhoda, until he cried, “I’ll be hanged if the girl doesn’t haunt me!” and considered the matter with some curiosity.