But, nevertheless, Lily was envied as she rode through the town with her handsome lover by her side.
And she was very happy.

I will not deny that she had some feeling of triumphant satisfaction in the knowledge that she was envied.

Such a feeling on her part was natural, and is natural to all men and women who are conscious that they have done well in the adjustment of their own affairs.

As she herself had said, he was her bird, the spoil of her own gun, the product of such capacity as she had in her, on which she was to live, and, if possible, to thrive during the remainder of her life.

Lily fully recognised the importance of the thing she was doing, and, in soberest guise, had thought much of this matter of marriage.