She gave a half weary, half scornful gesture, and resumed her work, and for an hour or more sat patiently translating and writing. But her thoughts were rebels and went breaking into all manner of unfamiliar places,--moreover, she herself felt more or less rebellious and disposed to fight against destiny. At midday the sun, which had been teasing the earth with shy glimpses of glory all the morning, shone out superbly, and set such a coronal of light on her hair as she sat at her desk, that if she could have seen herself she might have been flattered at the effect. But she was only conscious of the brightness that filled the room--a brightness that equally took possession of her mind and filled her with cheerfulness. She even allowed herself a little run into the realms of fancy. “Suppose that he _should_ succeed in his perfectly impossible task,” she said. “I,--his ‘subject’--shall have him in my power! I never thought of that! Yet it’s worth thinking about! I shall have given him the triumph of his life! He will set some value upon me then,--and he’ll never be able to forget me! More than that, according to his own assertion, I shall be young!--and he spoke of beauty too!--all nonsense, of course--but if!--if!--if he makes _me_ the crowning success of all his studies, I shall hold him in the hollow of my hand!” Stimulated by this thought, she sprang up and stood proudly erect, a smile on her lips and radiance in her eyes. “With all his learning, his calculations and his cold-blooded science,--yes--I shall hold him in the hollow of my hand!” Recalling herself to her duties, she put all her papers and writing materials neatly away in order for the next morning’s work, and leaving the library, went out in the garden for a turn in the fresh air before luncheon. The noonday sunshine was at the full, and her whole being responded to its warmth and brightness. A new outlook had presented itself to her view, and all hesitation, vexation, fear and depression vanished like a mist blown aside by the wind. She was entirely resolved now to go through with whatsoever strange ordeals Dimitrius might ordain, no matter how much physical or mental suffering she might have to endure. “The die is cast!” she said, gaily--addressing herself to a group of pine trees stiff with frost--“I’m all for youth and beauty!--or--Death! On, on, Diana!”