allows a man to insult his hostess by making love to a married woman
in her house."

"Pret-ty good for a baby!" thought Dartmouth. "She could not have
done that better if she had been brought up Lady Langdon's daughter,
instead of having been under that general's tuition, and emancipated
from a life of seclusion, just about six months. Decidedly, she is
worth cultivating." He looked at her reflectively. That he was in
utter disgrace admitted of not a doubt. Women found little fault with
him, as a rule. They had shown themselves willing, with an aptitude
which savored of monotony, to take him on any terms; and to be sat in
judgment upon by a penniless girl with the face and air of an angry
goddess, had a flavor of novelty about it decidedly thrilling.
He determined to conquer or die. Clever as she was, she was still
absolutely a child, and no match for him. He placed his elbow on his
knee and leaned his head on his hand.

"Your rebuke is a very just one," he said, sadly. "And I have only the
poor excuse to offer that in this wicked world of ours we grow very
callous, and forget those old codes of honor which men were once so
strict about, no matter what the irregularities of their lives might
be. I am afraid it is quite true that I am not fit to touch your hand;
and indeed," he added hastily, "it is a miserable business all round,
and God knows there is little enough in it."

She turned and regarded him with something less of anger, something
more of interest, in her eyes.

"Then why do not you reform?" she asked, in a matter-of fact tone.
"Why do you remain so bad, if you regret it?"