"Yes," returned Eugenia, "I have indeed. We always see our happiness most clearly when we look back. I fear I have been too tenderly cared for. Perhaps," with a faint laugh, "perhaps I am a little spoilt." Roma smiled, but did not answer immediately. They were walking slowly up and down the terrace. Suddenly she turned to Eugenia with a question. "Do you dislike the idea of Halswood--of living there, I mean?" "Yes," answered Eugenia, frankly, "I do _very_ much. I dislike the whole of it--the being rich, and all that." "Would you really rather Beauchamp had not succeeded to the property?" asked Roma again, with a glimmer of amusement in her dark eyes. "_Far_ rather," returned Eugenia, with much emphasis. "You extraordinary girl!" exclaimed Roma, now laughing outright; "what _would_ Gertrude think if she heard you?" "Perhaps she wouldn't believe me," said Eugenia, sagely. "But it is quite, quite true. Still I would not say so to her. I hardly think I would say so to Beauchamp even. It is the sort of feeling that he could hardly--that very few people could enter into." "Very few indeed, I should say," replied Roma. "But, Eugenia, do you know I think you must try to get over the feeling. Solemnly, I assure you that I should have felt far more anxious about your future--yours and Beauchamp's I mean--had he remained poor. You don't know what it is. You don't know how very few people can resist the deterioration of that struggling, pinching life." "We should not have been so very badly off," said Eugenia, far from convinced that she was mistaken. "Yes, you would," persisted Roma; "for Beauchamp's tastes are all those of a rich man. He is so fastidious, and as a bachelor he has been able to indulge his fastidiousness to a great extent. Oh no, no, you are quite mistaken, Eugenia! I assure you you should be very thankful you are rich. It takes--a very different man to Beauchamp to make a good _poor_ husband," she had it on her lips to utter, but stopped in time. Eugenia did not notice the interruption. She seemed to be thinking deeply. "It seems to me so much more difficult than being poor," she said. "But you must know some things much better than I. I will try to think it is best." "Yes, do, it will give you a much better start," said Roma, cheerfully. "And remember my advice, to take things lightly and not to be too sensitive. Not very lofty sentiments, are they? But there's some sense in them. Everything seems to be compromise, after all. Nobody is quite good or quite bad, and most people and most lives are made up of a great many littles of both. That is the extent of the philosophy to which my four-and-twenty years' experience has brought me?" "It is very sad, _I_ think," said Eugenia. "But it might be worse?" suggested Roma.