"I find days grow shorter as I grow older," she rejoined steadily, and smoothed her hair with her hand, making ready to put on her bonnet.
"Ah, do not put it on," he urged quickly, with a gesture.

"It becomes you so--on your arm." She had regained her self-possession.

Pride, the best weapon of a woman, the best tonic, came to her resource.

"Thee loves to please thee at any cost," she replied.

She fastened the grey strings beneath her chin.
"Would it be costly to keep the bonnet on your arm ?" "It is my pleasure to have it on my head, and my pleasure has some value to myself." "A moment ago," he rejoined laughing, "it was your pleasure to have it on your arm." "Are all to be monotonous except Lord Eglington?
Is he to have the only patent of change ?" "Do I change ?" He smiled at her with a sense of inquisition, with an air that seemed to say, "I have lifted the veil of this woman's heart; I am the master of the situation." She did not answer to the obvious meaning of his words, but said: "Thee has done little else but change, so far as eye can see.