The passion for praise and admiration had become to her like the passion of the opium-eater for his drug, or of the brandy-drinker for his dram.

But now she was heedlessly steering to what might prove a more palpable sin.
Harry the serf, once half despised for his slavish devotion, now stood before her, proud and free, and tantalized her by the display he made of his indifference, and preference for others.

She put forth every art and effort to recapture him.

But the most dreadful stroke of fate of all was, that Rose Ferguson had come to New York to make a winter visit, and was much talked of in certain circles where Harry was quite intimate; and he professed himself, indeed, an ardent admirer at her shrine..