Her whole demeanor was admirable in its well-bred repose.

Did she love him?
Was it in her power to love any man?
Not the humble chronicler--not any man, perhaps, and but few women--can essay an answer.

Suffice it that she accepted him.

In exchange for the title he could give her, the position he could assure to her, the wealth he was ready to lavish upon her, and, lastly, let us mention, in the effete, old-fashioned way, the love he bore her--in exchange for these she gave him her hand.
Thus Etta Sydney Bamborough was enabled to throw down her cards at last and win the game she had played so skilfully.

The widow of an obscure little Foreign Office clerk, she might have been a baroness, but she put the smaller honor aside and aspired to a prince.