"Don't say these things, Lord Dollamore. I know you don't mean them; but they sound cold and wicked. How could I care for any position? and what is wealth to me?"
"Pretty much what it is to every rational being, Lady Mitford--happiness; or if not quite the real sterling thing, the very best plated or paste imitation of it procurable in this state of existence. But you have not only wealth, rank, position, and a career of fashion and pleasure to look forward to; there are other things in your future. Think of your youth, estimate your beauty;--stay--no, you cannot do that; you never could conceive the effect it must produce on men who are gentlemen and have taste. If you ever learn to use its full power, you will be as dangerous as Helen or Cleopatra."
He had spoken in a calm business-like manner, which disguised the real freedom of his speech; but he lingered just a little over the last few words, and thou went on hurriedly:
"What charm do you think Mrs. Hammond, or all the women like her--who swarm like vipers in society--will have against you? I am not flattering you, Lady Mitford,--you know that; I am merely telling you the simple truth. Your experience has been narrow, and you think all, or most men, are like Mitford. Because she has beaten you in this inglorious strife, do you think she could rival you in a grander and higher warfare?"
"Inglorious!" she said, amazed. "Oh, Lord Dollamore, he is my husband!"
Dollamore smiled--not at all a pleasant smile; there was too much contemptuous toleration in it.
"Your husband! Yes, he is your husband; but is he therefore any the less a commonplace and vulgar-minded person? You are too clever, Lady Mitford" (he understood the art of praising a woman for those qualities which she does not possess), "to believe in or repeat the stupid methodistical cant which would limit a woman's perceptions, sympathies, and associations, to her husband only,--a worse than Eastern bondage; for it does not involve indulgence, and it sins against knowledge. You are not going to 'live forgotten and die forlorn,' because you have married a man who is certainly not much better than his neighbours, and who is really no worse. Of course he does not suit you, and he never would have suited you, if Mrs. Hammond had never existed. You would have found that out a little later, and rather less unpleasantly, perhaps; but why not make the best of the early date of the discovery, which, after all, has its advantages? Mitford does not 'understand' you-that's the phrase, I think. Well, it's no worse because he does 'understand' some one of a lower calibre which is wonderfully like his own. He won't annoy you in any way, I daresay; he is ill at ease in society at the best, and he will keep out of it,--out of good society, I mean--your set. He will find resources at his own level, I daresay. Then do not trouble yourself about him; by and by, I mean, when the Hammond will be nowhere. Of course that business vexes you now; people always are vexed in the country by things they would never care about in town. It's the trees and the moon and the boredom, I suppose. Make up your mind not to trouble yourself about him; study the advantages of your position well, and determine to take the fullest possible enjoyment of them all."
He paused and looked at her, with a covert anxiety in his gaze. She sat quite still, and she was very pale; but she did not say a word. Her thoughts were painful and confused. Only one thing was clear to her: this man's counsel was very different from that which Colonel Alsager had given her. Which of the two would be the easier to follow? Georgie had strayed--at least a little way--into a dangerous path, when she acknowledged the possibility that it might be a struggle to act upon Alsager's, and might be even possible to follow Lord Dollamore's counsel. The pale face was very still; but Dollamore thought he could read indecision in it. He drew a little nearer to her, and bent a little more towards her, as he said:
"Do you really believe-do you even make-believe-that love is never more to be yours? Put such a cruel delusion far from you. You find it hard to live without love now; you grieve because you cannot keep the old feeling alive in your own heart, as keenly as you grieve because it has died in your husband's. You will find it impossible in the time to come. Then, when the tribute of passionate devotion is offered to you, you will not always refuse to accept it. Then, if one who has seen you in these dark days, radiant in beauty and unequalled in goodness,--one whom you have taught to believe in the reality of--"
A servant entered the room, and handed Lady Mitford a small twisted note. It was from Sir Charles, and merely said, "Come to me at once--to the library."