Surely, after what had happened at Aylingford, she had ample reason for
her opinion. How was she to meet his designs and defeat them? There was
only one way, the full sacrifice of herself. She looked critically at
herself in the mirror, dashed the tears from her eyes, and smiled,
touched her hair that the curls might fall most becomingly, and turned
her head this way and that, coquetting with her own reflection.
"Can I smile so winningly that a man will think possession of me cheaply
bought at any price?" she murmured. "I think so, I believe so. I will
make the bargain. Whatever beauty I have shall be staked against your
villainy, Sir John; and I think the woman will win."
She was strong in her determination, yet she sobbed herself to sleep.
Not having been a frequent visitor at Aylingford Abbey in recent years,
Lady Bolsover knew nothing about the company so constantly assembled
there, nothing about her brother's pursuits and interests. That he must
have fallen behind the times and become uninteresting, she took for
granted; nothing else was to be expected of one who resided constantly
in the country, she argued; yet she admitted to herself that Sir John
looked a fine gentleman as he passed amongst her guests, and was rather
surprised to find how full he was of town graces.
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