Man's attractions, physical and personal, had left only the lightest of surface impressions--until the advent of this man.
To what in him was she responsive?
What intellectual charm had he revealed?
What latent spiritual excellence did she suspect?
What were his lesser qualities--the simpler moral virtues--the admirable attributes which a woman could recognise.

Nay, where even were the nobler failings, the forgivable faults, the promise of future things?
Her uplifted, questioning eyes searched and fell.

Only the clear-cut beauty of his head answered her, only the body's grace.
She sometimes suspected pity as her one besetting sin.

Was it pity for this man--a young man only twenty-four, her own age, so cheerful under the crushing weight of material ruin?
Was it his poverty that appealed?
Was it her instinct to protect?
If all she heard was true, he sorely needed protection from himself.

For tales of him had filtered to her young ears--indefinite rumours of unworthy things--of youth wasted and manhood threatened--of excesses incomprehensible to her, and to those who hinted them to her.
Was it his solitude in the world for which she was sorry?
She had no parents, either.