She was too genial, too responsive, not to find admiration very
acceptable. Nor could she believe that a man like De Burgh, hard,
daring, careless, could suffer much or long through his affections. It
flattered her woman's vanity, too, that with her he dropped his cynical,
mocking tone, and spoke with straightforward earnestness. He might have
ended by interesting and flattering her till she loved him--for he had a
certain amount of attraction--if her carefully resisted feeling for
Errington had not created an antidote to the poison he might have
introduced into her life.
Altogether she dressed with something of anticipated pleasure, and was
not displeased with the result of her toilette.
Her dress was as deeply mourning as it was good taste to wear at an
evening party. A few folds of gauzy white lisse softened the edge of her
thick black silk corsage, a jet necklet and comb set off her snowy,
velvety throat and bright golden brown hair.
"I had no idea you would turn out so effectively!" exclaimed Mrs.
Ormonde, examining her with a critical eye as they took off their wraps
in the ladies' cloak-room. "Your dress might have been cut a little
lower, dear; with a long throat like yours it is very easy to keep
within the bounds of decency.
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