She had been used to feel barriers go down before that ultimate power of personality of which she was abundantly conscious.

Yet it had not availed her here--not even with the man who loved her.
Lord Maxwell looked at the two--the man's face of suffering, the girl's struggling breath.
"There, there, Aldous!" he said, rising.

"I will leave you a minute.

Do make Marcella rest--get her, for all our sakes, to forget this a little.
Bring her in presently to us for some coffee.

Above all, persuade her that we love her and admire her with all our hearts, but that in a matter of this kind she must leave us to do--as before God!--what we think right." He stood before her an instant, gazing down upon her with dignity--nay, a certain severity.