The man was generous, but he was no saint. Give him herself, and she
would have the world at her feet if he could bring it there. Give any
less, and he would have no more to say to her whatsoever.

It was the cross-roads.

Lorrain struggled manfully for a month. She hated the idea of marrying
a man better suited in every way to her mother. She dreaded and hated
the thought of what had perhaps been between them; yet she was afraid
to ask any question that might corroborate her worst fears.

All that was best in her of delicate and refined sensitiveness surged
upward, and she longed to run away to some remote island far removed
from the harsh realities of life.

Yet, how could she? Without money, without influence, without rich
friends, what did the world at large hold for her?

How much easier to go with the tide - seize her opportunity - and dare
Fate to do her worst.

At the last there was a bitter scene between mother and daughter.

"If you refuse Frank Raynor now, you ruin the two of us," was Mrs.
Vivian's angry indictment. "What can we expect from him any more? How
are you ever going to get another such chance to make a hit?"

"And what if it ruins my life to marry him?" Lorraine asked.