As Adela went back thence into the drawing-room, she simply shook her head at Ludlow, who was standing before the fire-place; and as she did so, she caught her reflection in the mantel-glass. "Verily," she said to herself, "I have travelled far." She had pretty well unlearned the repose of the Veres of Vere. But she was to break with it still more completely. It was with a singular hardihood that she prepared to redeem the little pledge which had been extorted from her on her way home. She felt that there was no trial to which her generosity might now be called which she would not hail with enthusiasm. Unfortunately, her generosity was not likely to be challenged; although she nevertheless had the satisfaction of assuring herself at this moment that, like the mercy of the Lord, it was infinite. Should she satisfy herself of her friend's? or should she leave it delightfully uncertain? These had been the terms of what has been called her temptation, at the foot of the hill. But inasmuch as Adela was by no means strictly engaged in the pursuit of pleasure, and as the notion of a grain of suffering was by no means repugnant to her, she had resolved to obtain possession of the one essential fact of her case, even though she should be at heavy costs to maintain it. "Well, I have very little time," said Ludlow; "I must get my dinner and pay my bill and drive to the train." And he put out his hand. Adela gave him her own, and looked him full in the eyes. "You are in a great hurry," said she. "It's not I who am in a hurry. It's my confounded destiny. It's the train and the steamer." "If you really wished to stay you wouldn't be bullied by the train and the steamer." "Very true--very true. But _do_ I really wish to stay?" "That's the question. That's what I want to know." "You ask difficult questions, Miss Moore." "I mean they shall be difficult." "Then, of course, you are prepared to answer difficult ones." "I don't know that that's of course, but I am." "Well, then, do you wish me to stay? All I have to do is to throw down my hat, sit down and fold my arms for twenty minutes. I lose my train and my ship. I stay in America, instead of going to Europe." "I have thought of all that." "I don't mean to say it's a great deal. There are pleasures and pleasures." "Yes, and especially the former. It is a great deal." "And you invite me to accept it?" "No; I ought not to say that. What I ask of you is whether, if I should so invite you, you would say 'yes.'" "That makes the matter very easy for you, Miss Moore. What attractions do you hold out?" "I hold out nothing whatever, sir." "I suppose that means a great deal." "It means what it seems to mean." "Well, you are certainly a most interesting woman, Miss Moore--a charming woman." "Why don't you call me 'fascinating' at once, and bid me good morning?"