One man she not only loved, but could not help loving; the other man, as regarded that sort of sympathy which marriage should recognise, must always have been worlds asunder from her.

She knew that men demand that women shall possess beauty, and she certainly had never thought of herself as beautiful; but it did not occur to her that on that account she was doomed to fail.

She was too strong-hearted for any such fear.

She did not think much of these things, but felt herself to be so far endowed as to be fit to be the wife of such a man as Frank Greystock.

She was a proud, stout, self-confident, but still modest little woman, too fond of truth to tell lies of herself even to herself.