Chapter 2

Next afternoon, about two o'clock, Alan called with a tremulous
heart at the cottage. Herminia had heard not a little of him
meanwhile from her friend Mrs. Dewsbury. "He's a charming young
man, my dear," the woman of the world observed with confidence.
"I felt quite sure you'd attract one another. He's so clever and
advanced, and everything that's dreadful,--just like yourself,
Herminia. But then he's also very well connected. That's always
something, especially when one's an oddity. You wouldn't go down
one bit yourself, dear, if you weren't a dean's daughter. The
shadow of a cathedral steeple covers a multitude of sins. Mr.
Merrick's the son of the famous London gout doctor,--you MUST know
his name,--all the royal dukes flock to him. He's a barrister
himself, and in excellent practice. You might do worse, do you
know, than to go in for Alan Merrick."

Herminia's lip curled an almost imperceptible curl as she answered
gravely, "I don't think you quite understand my plans in life, Mrs.
Dewsbury. It isn't my present intention to GO IN for anybody."

But Mrs. Dewsbury shook her head. She knew the world she lived in.
"Ah, I've heard a great many girls talk like that beforehand," she
answered at once with her society glibness; "but when the right man
turned up, they soon forgot their protestations. It makes a lot of
difference, dear, when a man really asks you!"

Herminia bent her head. "You misunderstand me," she replied. "I
don't mean to say I will never fall in love. I expect to do that.
I look forward to it frankly,--it is a woman's place in life. I
only mean to say, I don't think anything will ever induce me to
marry,--that is to say, legally."

Mrs. Dewsbury gave a start of surprise and horror. She really
didn't know what girls were coming to nowadays,--which, considering
her first principles, was certainly natural. But if only she had
seen the conscious flush with which Herminia received her visitor
that afternoon, she would have been confirmed in her belief that
Herminia, after all, in spite of her learning, was much like other
girls. In which conclusion Mrs. Dewsbury would not in the end have
been fully justified.

When Alan arrived, Herminia sat at the window by the quaintly
clipped box-tree, a volume of verse held half closed in her hand,
though she was a great deal too honest and transparent to pretend
she was reading it. She expected Alan to call, in accordance with
his promise, for she had seen at Mrs. Dewsbury's how great an
impression she produced upon him; and, having taught herself that
it was every true woman's duty to avoid the affectations and
self-deceptions which the rule of man has begotten