"the little wonderful white woman," which she could not guess and
which was probably the reason of his self-sought exile and
seclusion.

"I wish now I had gone with her!" she mused--"for if I am 'quite
beautiful,' as she said, she might have helped me in the world,--I
might have become a lady!"

She walked slowly and dejectedly back to the Plaza, knowing in her
heart that lady or no lady, her rich beauty was useless to her,
inasmuch as it made no effect on the one man she had elected to care
for, unwanted and unasked. Certain physiologists teach that the law
of natural selection is that the female should choose her mate, but
the difficulty along this line of argument is that she may choose
where her choice is unwelcome and irresponsive. Manella was a
splendid type of primitive womanhood,--healthy, warm-blooded and
full of hymeneal passion,--as a wife she would have been devoted,--
as a mother superb in her tenderness; but, measured by modern
standards of advanced and restless femininity she was a mere drudge,
without the ability to think for herself or to analyse subtleties of
emotion. Intellectuality had no part in her; most people's talk was
for her meaningless, and she had not the patience to listen to any
conversation that rose above the food and business of the day. She
was confused and bewildered by everything the strange recluse on the
hill said to her,--she could not follow him at all,--and yet, the
purely physical attraction he exercised over her nature drew her to
him like a magnet and kept her in a state of feverish craving for a
love she knew she could never win. She would have gladly been his
servant on the mere chance and hope that possibly in some moment of
abandonment he might have yielded to the importunity of her