There are men, my child, and perhaps women also, whose only kind of love is a fancy, like a child's for a toy.

They see something which attracts them; they try their utmost to obtain it.

If they fail, they soon forget their disappointment; if they succeed, they are delighted for the moment, until, the novelty having worn off, they discover that they have paid too dearly for their gratification, and throw aside their new possession in disgust." Mrs.Costello spoke earnestly, and with a kind of suppressed passion.

It seemed as if her words had an application beyond Lucia's knowledge; yet they awed her strangely.

Could they be true?
Who then could be trusted?
for according to her mother's story, Lord Lastingham had not merely deceived his wife, he had deceived himself also, with this counterfeit love.