father's death, some years before, had fallen heavily upon her, but
youth and health had borne her above even that sad event triumphant,
and now at three and twenty, with a fortune which loomed large even in
a day of large fortunes, she lived alone with a legion of servants in
the great house, with no earthly ties but an ineffectual aunt and a
Trust Company.

But she did not suffer for lack of advice as to the conduct of her life
or of her affairs, and she always took it with the sad devotional air
which its givers had learned meant that in the end she would do exactly
as she chose. And so the Aunt and the Trust Company, like the
scandalized Titine, ended inevitably in silent acquiescence.

Of her acquaintances much might be said, both good and bad. They
represented almost every phase of society from the objects of her
charities (which were many and often unreasoning) to the daughters of
her father's friends who belonged in her own sphere of existence. And
if one's character may be judged by that of one's friends, Hermia was
of infinite variety. Perhaps the sportive were most often in her
company, and it was against these that Mrs. Westfield ineffectually
railed, but there was a warmth in her affection for Gertrude
Brotherton, who liked quiet people as a rule (and made Hermia the
exception to prove it), and an intellectual flavor in her attachment
for Angela Reeves, who was interested in social problems, which more
than compensated for Miss Challoner's intimacy with those of a gayer
sort.

Her notes written, she dressed for the morning, then lay back in her
chair with a sharp little sigh and pensively touched the scratches on
her face, her expression falling suddenly into lines of discontent. It