CHAPTER II.

etopartwithherjewelrytoanyobservableextent,theywouldinterferebyinquiriesandremonstrances.Thecoursethatheldtheleastriskofintolerableannoyancewastoraisemoneyonhernecklaceearlyinthemorning,telltheLangensthathermotherdesiredherimmediatereturnwithoutgivingareason,andtakethetrainforBrusselsthatevening.Shehadnomaidwithher,andtheLangensmightmakedifficultiesaboutherreturninghome,butherwillwasperemptory. Insteadofgoingtobedshemadeasbrilliantalightasshecouldandbegantopack,workingdiligently,thoughallthewhilevisitedbythescenesthatmighttakeplaceonthecomingday—nowbythetiresomeexplanationsandfarewells,andthewhirlingjourneytowardachangedhome,nowbythealternativeofstayingjustanotherdayandstandingagainattheroulette-table.ButalwaysinthislatterscenetherewasthepresenceofthatDeronda,watchingherwithexasperatingirony,and—thetwokeenexperienceswereinevitablyrevivedtogether—beholdingheragainforsakenbyluck.Thisimportunateimagecertainlyhelpedtoswayherresolveonthesideofimmediatedeparture,andtourgeherpackingtothepointwhichwouldmakeachangeofmindinconvenient.Ithadstrucktwelvewhenshecameintoherroom,andbythetimeshewasassuringherselfthatshehadleftoutonlywhatwasnecessary,thefaintdawnwasstealingthroughthewhiteblindsanddullinghercandles.Whatwastheuseofgoingtobed?Hercoldbathwasrefreshmentenough,andshesawthataslighttraceoffatigueabouttheeyesonlymadeherlookthemoreinteresting.Beforesixo’clockshewascompletelyequippedinhergraytravelingdresseventoherfelthat,forshemeanttowalkoutassoonasshecouldcountonseeingotherladiesontheirwaytothesprings.Andhappeningtobeseatedsidewaysbeforethelongstripofmirrorbetweenhertwowindowssheturnedtolookatherself,leaningherelbowonthebackofthechairinanattitudethatmighthavebeenchosenforherportrait.Itispossibletohaveastrongself-lovewithoutanyself-satisfaction,ratherwithaself-discontentwhichisthemoreintensebecauseone’sownlittlecoreofegoisticsensibilityisasupremecarebutGwendolenknewnothingofsuchinwardstrife.Shehadana?vedelightinherfortunateself,whichanybuttheharshestsaintlinesswillhavesomeindulgenceforinagirlwhohadeverydayseenapleasantreflectionofthatselfinherfriends’flatteryaswellasinthelooking-glass.Andeveninthisbeginningoftroubles,whileforlackofanythingelsetodoshesatgazingatherimageinthegrowinglight,herfacegatheredacomplacencygradualasthecheerfulnessofthemorning.Herbeautifullipscurledintoamoreandmoredecidedsmile,tillatlastshetookoffherhat,leanedforwardandkissedthecoldglasswhichhadlookedsowarm.Howcouldshebelieveinsorrow?Ifitattackedher,shefelttheforcetocrushit,todefyit,orrunawayfromit,asshehaddoneal