Far from accepting the pettiness of middle-class existence, she was angry at the delay which kept the great things of life from her grasp,--blaming fate as deceptive.

Celestine sincerely believed herself a superior woman.

Perhaps she was right; perhaps she would have been great under great circumstances; perhaps she was not in her right place.

Let us remember there are as many varieties of woman as there are of man, all of which society fashions to meet its needs.

Now in the social order, as in Nature's order, there are more young shoots than there are trees, more spawn than full-grown fish, and many great capacities (Athanase Granson, for instance) which die withered for want of moisture, like seeds on stony ground.