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"I am no man's mistress," answered the widow, crimsoning to her temples, but preserving her meek deportment, and humble tone. Part of her even believed that her mother would have wanted her to stop feeling guilty and to be happy. Many a black veil hid a high-born dame, and the religious habit was no protection. “Of course, one lives differently in Paris, but then—Paris is Paris. If we were to wait till a prig was rightfully nabbed, we might tarry till doomsday. ‘But this is not to my blame, grandpére. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. The office is a sight—not one sheet of paper on another; bills and receipts everywhere. To be confronted with the girl’s damned Frenchman of a husband was another matter altogether. Neither father, aunt, nor brothers made a sign, and then one afternoon in early February her aunt came up in a state between expostulation and dignified resentment, but obviously very anxious for Ann Veronica’s welfare. In the meanwhile, as he talked, he scrutinized her face, ran his eyes over her careless, gracious poise, wondered hard about her. who retailed a store of faded learning in the Tredgold laboratory.
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