Standing there in the sunshine, with every blessing from heaven lavished upon her--more, according to outward appearances, to be envied than any girl in England--she saw the great canker-worm of her life in its true colors. Sin had spoiled all for her. Sin! Why, she could remember when, in the innocence of her youth and beauty, she had laughed at the word sin--she had scoffed at it. "What did sin matter?" she had said, to herself; "the only thing was to make the very best of life, to enjoy it with all her power, to grasp its pleasures before they had time to fade." Sin! why it was all sheer nonsense. Now, when sin had found her out, when its black trail had entered her life and poisoned it--when its consequences, pursuing her, were leading her to shame and disgrace, she began to recognize it for what it was. She said to herself that if she could begin life over again she would be quite different; she would try to be good, like Mattie; she would think less of her own beauty; and if the same temptation came to her again, which had been so artfully offered her once, she would refuse it. She wished with all her heart that she had turned a deaf ear to Lord Vivianne's entreaties. "I _did_ know it was wrong," she said to herself, with unusual candor; "I had enough of what was good in me to know that, and I am sorry, really sorry that I did it." Who knows how much repentance the Father above requires from a soul? Who shall measure His mercy? The terrible tragedy was drawing nearer; and it might be that the sorrow which rose from the poor, weak, vain soul that morning was sufficient to save it. So she lived the time through until Lord Vivianne came. She was glad that Lady Linleigh had arranged for a little gayety; meeting him alone would have been simply unendurable. As it was, she met him in a drawing-room half-crowded with guests. He found time and opportunity for saying a few words to her: "How beautiful you look, Dora! I have never seen you looking so well!" "I should be flattered at pleasing such fastidious taste as yours," she replied. "Yes, you do look most lovely; those waves of green and white, and the water-lilies in your hair--you look like Undine!" "Before or after she had found her soul?" she asked, with a mocking smile. He laughed that low, light laugh for which she hated him. "I have never quite made up my mind as to whether women have souls or not," he said. "I am inclined to think not; if they have, they certainly make queer use of them." "Lady Linleigh!" cried the girl, to the countess, who was just passing by, "what do you imagine Lord Vivianne says?" "I cannot imagine," replied the countess, with a smile. "He says he is inclined to believe women have no souls; or, if they have, they make queer use of them." The countess looked slightly shocked. Lord Vivianne gave one angry look at the spoiled beauty. "That is a very dreadful opinion to hold, my lord," said Lady Estelle.