All would end properly and well, in good time.
But Carlia was in Dorian's thought very often, much to his bewilderment of heart and mind.

He often debated with himself if he should not definitely give her up, cease thinking about her as being anything to him either now or hereafter; but it seemed impossible to do that.
Carlia's image persisted even as Mildred's did.

Mildred, away from the entanglements of the world, was safe to him; but Carlia had her life to live and the trials and difficulties of mortality to encounter and to overcome; and that would not be easy, with her beauty and her impulsive nature.

She needed a man's clear head and steady hand to help her, and who was more fitting to do that than he himself, Dorian thought without conscious egotism.
If it were possible, Dorian always spent Sunday at home.

If he was on his dry farm in the hills, he drove down on Saturday evenings.