broken the moulds and so mixed the marks. What was con founding was her disparities—the juxtaposition in her of beautiful sun-flushed heights and deep dark holes. She had none of the things that the other things implied. She dangled in the air in a manner that made one dizzy; though one took comfort, at the worst, in feeling that one was there to catch her if she fell. Falling, at the same time, appeared scarce one of her properties, and it was positive for Lady Champer at moments that if one held out one's arms one might be, after all, much more likely to be pulled up. That was really a part of the excitement of the acquaintance.
'Well,' said this friend and critic on one of the first of the London days, 'say he does, on your return to your own country, go after you: how do you read, on that occurrence, the course of events?'
'Why, if he comes after me I'll have him.'
'And do you think it so easy to "have" him?'
Lily appeared, lovely and candid,—and it was an air and a way she often had,—to wonder what she thought. 'I don't know that I think it any easier than he seems to think it to have me. I know moreover that, though he wants awfully to see the country, he wouldn't just now come to America unless to marry me; and if I take him at all,' she pursued, 'I want first to be able to show him to the girls.'
'Why "first"?' Lady Champer asked. 'Wouldn't it do as well last?'
'Oh, I should want them to see me in Rome, too,' said Lily. 'But, dear me, I'm afraid I want a good many things! What I most want of course is that he should show me unmistakably what he wants. Unless he wants me more than anything else in the world, I don't want him. Besides, I hope he doesn't think I'm going to be married anywhere but in my own place.'
'I see,' said Lady Champer. 'It's for your wedding you want the girls. And it's for the girls you want the Prince.'
