“Yes, often. I don’t think anything but resolute, iron determination ever takes any one up. Influence helps a good many up the lower rungs, and saves them a lot of the drudgery, but it cannot do much else, and unless one is full of grit and purpose at heart, one sticks there.” “Still, it must be a great help to be pulled through the drudgery.” “It may mean a good deal of loss also.” “How?” “I don’t suppose success that is won through favour means half so much to the winner as success that is wrenched from Fate by one’s own resolute hands. The only thing is, one wonders so often afterwards if it has been worth while.” “Do you wonder that?” “Ah!… don’t I?” He said nothing, and she went on: “All the same, I imagine I had to succeed or die. I was built that way. Nothing less than success would have satisfied me. I often crave for quiet, restful happiness now, but if it had been offered then I should have passed it by and struggled blindly for fame. Still, it is hard to think how easily one can take a false step, and suffer for it till the end.” “Did you do that?” He turned his eyes to her again, and she saw as sympathy in them that was deeper than any feeling he had shown her yet. “Yes. I was in a very tight corner, and I took a short cut out. I married for money and influence. The step brought me all I anticipated, but it brought other things as well, that I had chosen not to remember: nausea, ennui, self-disgust, loneliness, emptiness. I think I should never have won through without Hal.” “And is your husband living?” “Yes. In America. We have not troubled each other for a long time. I suppose I am fortunate in being left alone.” She was silent a few minutes, and then she told him kindly: “Hal says they always chaff you about marrying an heiress, for the sake of being rich without any need to work; but take my advice, and don’t force the hand of Fate before she has had time to give you good things in her own time.” He turned to her with a very engaging smile as he answered: “They chaff me about a good many things, but most of them are a little wide of the mark. I haven’t any leaning at present towards a paid post as husband.” “I’m glad; but I didn’t for a moment suppose you had seriously. I wonder what you have a leaning towards?” she added. “I should like to succeed.” He sat forward suddenly and leaned his chin on his hands, resting his elbows on his knees, and stared hard at the flames. “I care a great deal more about succeeding really than any one believes; but I’m afraid I’m not cut out for it.” “I should like to help you,” she said simply. “You are very good,” he answered, still looking hard into the fire. Lorraine got up and moved slowly about the room, touching a flower here, and a flower there, and rearranging them with deft fingers. She turned on an electric light with a soft shade, and glanced at the books Flip Denton had brought her.