“I doubt if we are really less ferocious to-day,” the other said; “our ferocity is directed against the weakest, now as then, but there are happily not so many weak, so we get the credit of being juster, without expense. As a matter of fact, our opportunities are less, and so we make a virtue of necessity—with a vengeance!”
Hadria looked at her companion with startled interest. “Will you tell me to whom I have the pleasure of speaking?” the lady asked.
“My name is Fullerton—Hadria Fullerton.”
“Thank you. And here is my card, at least I think it is. Oh, no, that is a friend’s card! How very tiresome! I am reduced to pronouncing my own name—Miss Du Prel, Valeria Du Prel; you may know it.”
Hadria came to a sudden standstill. She might know it! she might indeed. Valeria Du Prel had long been to her a name to swear by.
“Miss Du Prel! Is that—are you—may I ask, are you the writer of those wonderful books?”
Miss Du Prel gave a gratified smile. “I am glad they please you.”
“Ah! if you could guess how I have longed to know you. I simply can’t believe it.”
“And so my work has really given you pleasure?”
“Pleasure! It has given me hope, it has given me courage, it has given me faith in all that is worth living for. It was an epoch in my life when I first read your Parthenia.”