We read of 'society ladies' doing this, that and t' other thing, and we laugh at their doings--and when we read of a great lady conducting herself like an outcast, we feel a contempt for her such as we never visit on her poor sister of the streets.

The newspapers may praise these women, but we 'common people' estimate them at their true worth--and that is--nothing! Now the girl you made an ideal of----" "She was to be bought and sold,"-- interrupted Reay; "I know that now.
But I didn't know it then.

She looked a sweet innocent angel,--with a pretty face and beautiful eyes--just the kind of creature we men fall in love with at first sight----" "The kind of creature who, if you had married her, would have made you wretched for life,"-- said Helmsley.

"Be thankful you escaped her!" "Oh, I'm thankful enough now!" and Reay pushed back his rebellious lock of hair again--"For when one has a great ambition in view, freedom is better than love----" Helmsley raised his wrinkled, trembling hand.
"No, don't say that!" he murmured, gently--"Nothing--nothing in all the world is better than love!" Involuntarily his eyes turned towards Mary with a strange wistfulness.
There was an unspoken yearning in his face that was almost pain.

Her quick instinctive sympathy responded to his thought, and rising, she went to him on the pretext of re-arranging the cushion in his chair, so that he might lean back more comfortably.