Her charm--her beauty--her wit.

Nature bestows on her all conquering weapons." "Which she as often as not misuses and turns against herself.

But Mr.
Vane," the note of bitterness had vanished; her voice was now earnest, almost grave, "you weren't despondent when you were facing an angry mob after doing me a service I shall never forget.

You underrate yourself." "Oh, I admit that when alone I'm like a boat at the mercy of wind and wave, but with some one to inspire--to guide--bah, 'tis useless talking of the unattainable." Vane uttered the last words in a reckless tone and with a shrug of the shoulders.

His eyes gazed yearningly, despairingly into hers, and there had never been a time in Lavinia's life when she was less able to withstand a wave of heartfelt emotion.
Her nerves at that moment were terribly unstrung.