the prospect of her being Lady Peterborough, the man who was to be Lord Peterborough was at any rate ready to make her his wife, and on that side there were none of those difficulties about house, and money, and position which stood in the way of the Hugh-Stanbury side of the question.  She was not, she thought, fit to be the wife of a very poor man; but she conceived of herself that she would do very well as a future Lady Peterborough in the drawing-rooms of Monkhams.  She was so far vain as to fancy that she could look, and speak, and move, and have her being after the fashion which is approved for the Lady Peterboroughs of the world.  It was not clear to her that Nature had not expressly intended her to be a Lady Peterborough; whereas, as far as she could see, Nature had not intended her to be a Mrs Hugh Stanbury, with a precarious income of perhaps ten guineas a week when journalism was doing well.  So she moved on to another little eminence to think of it there.  It was clear to her that if she should accept Mr Glascock she would sell herself, and not give herself away; and she had told herself scores of times before this, that a young woman should give herself away, and not sell herself—­ should either give herself away, or keep herself to herself, as circumstances might go.  She had been quite sure that she would never sell herself.  But this was a lesson which she had taught herself when she was very young, before she had come to understand the world and its hard necessities.  Nothing, she now told herself, could be worse than to hang like a millstone round the neck of a poor man.  It might be a very good thing to give herself away for love but it would not be a good thing to be the means of ruining the man she loved, even if that man were willing to be so ruined.  And then she thought that she could also love that other man a little—­could love him sufficiently for comfortable domestic purposes.  And it would undoubtedly be very pleasant to have all the troubles of her life settled for her.  If she were Mrs Glascock, known to the world as the future Lady Peterborough, would it not be within her power to bring her sister and her sister’s husband again together?  The tribute of the Monkhams authority and influence to her sister’s side of the question would be most salutary.  She tried to make herself believe that in this way she would be doing a good deed.  Upon the whole, she thought that if Mr Glascock should give her another chance she would accept him.  And he had distinctly promised that he would give her another chance.  It might be that this unfortunate quarrel in the Trevelyan family would deter him.  People do not wish to ally themselves with family quarrels.  But if the chance came in her way she would accept it.  She had made up her mind to that, when she turned round from off the last knoll on which she had stood, to return to her sister and Priscilla Stanbury.

They two had sat still under the shade of a thorn bush, looking at Nora as she was wandering about, and talking together more freely than they had ever done before on the circumstances that had brought them together.  ‘How pretty she looks,’ Priscilla had said, as Nora was standing with her figure clearly marked by the light.