was said to be full of old-fashioned coquetry, but not even flirtatious;
that I was gracious, had pleasing manners, but was the very soul of
sincerity, and would never be guilty of leading men on and on. I was
frequently contrasted with that devilish brown-eyed beauty--a recognized
flirt, ready to sacrifice any man on her crowded altar. A man once said
to me of her:

"Such kings of shreds have wooed and won her,
Such crafty knaves her laurel owned,
It has become almost an honor
Not to be crowned."


"Hush! hush! she is my friend," I said, for I knew him to be one of
her rejected lovers. In a month I had gently told him nay. But he was
innocent, he did not know that I had played my cards for him. He thought
me cold, but he thought me kind. He advertised me in desirable places
and with most desirable people. I captivated several other desirable
men. It is so easy for a woman to fool a man. But I was eager to try
my powers on better metal--some man of the world. A victory in such a
quarter would fully establish me, and it would bring the very best men
to my side, for they, like sheep, readily follow the well-known leader.
And perhaps--Gerome might return.

One winter's night late, after I had gone to my room, two men called.
Ordinarily I should have excused myself, but something--we call it fate,
I believe--prompted me to see them. One was an old friend--a friend of
the family. The other a thorough man of the world, and--I knew it
intuitively--my desired victim. He was an idle, indifferent, Social
Drifter. He was an artist by profession; his inclination--and his