"Only the selfish and the useless are ever free. Those who are worth
anything in this world are bound by a hundred claims upon them. They
must either stay caught in the meshes of love and duty, or wrench
themselves away--and that's what I did. Perhaps I suffered less than
many people in doing the same thing; but I cannot say that I haven't
suffered at all."

"But you've had a happy life--till now."

"I've had what I wanted--which may be happiness, or may not be."

"I've heard that you were very much admired. Madame de Nohant has told
me that when you appeared at the Tuileries, no one was more graceful,
not even the Empress herself."

"I had what I wanted," Mrs. Eveleth repeated, with a sigh. "I don't deny
that I enjoyed it; and yet I question now if I did right. When my
husband died, and George was a little boy, my friends made one last
effort to induce me to take him back, and bring him up in his own
country. I ignored their opinions, because all their views were so
different from mine. I was young and independent, and enamoured of the
life I had begun to lead. I had scruples of conscience from time to
time; but when George grew up and developed the tastes I had bred in
him, I let other considerations go. I was pleased with his success in
the little world of Paris, just as I had been flattered by my own. When
he fell in love with you I urged him to marry you, not because of
anything in yourself, but because you were Mademoiselle de la
Ferronaise, the last of an illustrious family. I looked upon the match
as a useful alliance for him and for me. I encouraged George in
extravagance. I encouraged him when he began to live in a style far more