She is tame and
quiet, a cat that will sleep on the rug before the fire, and you think
that she will never scratch. Do not suppose that I mean to abuse her. She
was my dear friend before you had ever seen her. And men, I know, have
tastes which women do not understand. You want what you call--repose."
"We seldom know what we want, I fancy. We take what the gods send us."
Frank's words were perhaps more true than wise. At the present moment the
gods had clearly sent Lizzie Eustace to him, and unless he could call up
some increased strength of his own, quite independent of the gods, or of
what we may perhaps call chance, he would have to put up with the article
sent.
Lizzie had declared that she would not touch Lord Fawn with a pair of
tongs, and in saying so had resolved that she could not and would not now
marry his lordship, even were his lordship in her power. It had been
decided by her as quickly as thoughts flash, but it was decided. She would
torture the unfortunate lord, but not torture him by becoming his wife.
And, so much being fixed as the stars in heaven, might it be possible that
she should even yet induce her cousin to take the place that had been
intended for Lord Fawn? After all that had passed between them she need
hardly hesitate to tell him of her love.
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