Yet not in her heart; there is no obliteration there, but rather an indelible stamp; it may be covered up--it cannot be sponged or scratched out. For her, Leonard is not forgotten; he triumphs. He lives again in the son of Margaret his daughter; in the person of that son--his grandson--he is to reign where he was spurned. That is the triumph of the scheme she made--and to her it is Leonard's triumph. In her eyes her own triumphs are little beside that. "My day is done," she said to me once. "Bad it was, I suppose, and God knows that it was short! But it was my day, and it is over." But she did not speak in sorrow. "I am content--and at peace." She broke into a smile. "Don't think of me as a woman any more. Think of me as just a man of business!" A man of business she is--and a very fine one; tactful and conciliatory, daring and subtle. But not a woman? Never was there more a woman since the world began--never one who leaned more on her woman's power, nor turned the arts of woman more to practical account. She has had many wooers; Dormer returned to the charge three or four times, till at last he fell back--in a mood little above resignation--on Eunice Aspenick; we have had an ambitious young merchant from Catsford, a curate or two, and one splendid aspirant, a former brother-officer of Lacey's, a man of great name and station. All went away with the same answer--but all were sent away friends, praisers of Jenny, convinced, I think, that they had only just failed and that no other man could have come so near success. There lies her instinct, and she cannot help using it--sometimes for her purposes, sometimes for her instinctive pleasure, which is still to lose no adherent, and to make friends even in refusing to be more. She will not marry, but she is marriageable--eminently marriageable--and that is as much an asset now as when she threatened to use it against Lord Fillingford if he would not take her bribe. Not a woman? How little we know of ourselves, Jenny! Is not her great triumph--Leonard's triumph, for which she planned and wrought and risked--is it not a woman's triumph all over, and her satisfaction in it supremely feminine?