"Lawrence was right. Beauty is a great power, and I am beautiful. I know it in a thousand ways, but best of all by the homage of men and the envy of women. Both are sweet to me. I love to see these envious creatures turn pale and whisper their venom to each other, as I am besieged by the attentions of their favorites. At first I was a little timid about asserting the power that I felt myself to possess. Mr. Dennison, I thought, might be displeased, were his wife to accept the position offered her as a belle and leader in the best social circles of the South. I think he was at first annoyed by the great popularity which followed my advent into society, but I soon forgot to notice these indications, and resolved to live my life whether he was pleased or not. After all, there is a great deal in this world worth living for besides love as a grand passion. The adoration which others are forced to give you has its charms; besides, there arise episodes of love in one's life, which come and go like the rosy dawn and golden sunset of a summer-day, which for the time charm one's heart out of its one deep passion. In society here I forget how deeply I loved that one man, and better still, I forget to think of my husband. For his sake my heart was thrown back upon itself, and he had become the cause of my humiliation; but for that, Lawrence might have been my slave, as other men have been, and will be, so long as I allow them to kneel at the altar of my vanity. Had I remained at the plantation, this conviction would, I do believe, have deepened into hatred of my husband; but I was too pleasantly occupied, brain and sense, for any deep feeling to reach me in that whirl of society; just then it would have been as impossible for me to hate, as to love my husband. I simply cared nothing about him, save as he was the source from whence I obtained gold in which to frame my beauty. Without that, half my power would have disappeared.
"Lawrence was right. The time has come when I am a careless, brilliant, beautiful coquette, and this he has made me. 'Then,' he said, 'we can meet in safety and play with the foam of life pleasantly, as it is tossed to our feet by the waves of society.'
"I understand all this now. When I am heartless, and altogether given up to vanity, he will not be afraid of loving me, because, to a man like him, love for a woman so transformed would be impossible. But am I transformed? Is not the old nature still alive in my bosom? I have no time for a serious answer. The foam he speaks of is mounting too whitely around my feet.
"'What is this? Mr. Dennison ill? Falling away? Forgetting to smile? Looking the very ghost of himself?' These were the very words I overheard this morning, as I stood unnoticed behind two ladies conversing in the great drawing-room of the St. Charles. Was this true? I had not noticed. The old man never complained, and I saw nothing. If he had fallen away in his appetite, no one was less likely to be aware of it than myself, for it was very seldom that we breakfasted at the same hour, and at dinner I was always too pleasantly occupied for any thought of his appetite. But one thing was true, he did look thin and terribly depressed. His white linen coat was hanging loosely around his person. The silvery hair, which everybody admired so much, seemed to have grown thinner. Never in my life have I looked on so sad a face.
"I crossed the room at once, and sat down by Mr. Dennison. His face brightened, he swept the white hair back from his forehead, and smiled upon me.
"'Are you ill?' I said, laying my hand on his.
"'No, not ill; only a little lonesome.'
"'Lonesome among all these people?' I answered, still pressing his hand.
"He looked down at my hand, which was blazing with great diamonds that he had given me.
"'There is room for one more,' he said, with a sigh. 'I bought it for you weeks ago, but have found no time in which you could receive it.'