II

           Hedinedaloneandwalkedhometohisroomsintherain.AsheturnedintoFifthAvenuehecaughtthewetgleamofcarriagesontheirwaytotheopera,andhetookthefirstsidestreet,inamomentofirritationagainstthepettyrestrictionsthatthwartedeveryimpulse.Itwasridiculoustogiveuptheopera,notbecauseonemightpossiblybeboredthere,butbecauseonemustpayfortheexperiment.

           Inhissitting-room,thetacitconnivanceoftheinanimatehadcentredthelamp-lightonaphotographofAlexaTrent,placed,intheobligatorysilverframe,justwhere,asmemoryofficiouslyremindedhim,MargaretAubyn’spicturehadlongthronedinitsstead.MissTrent’sfeaturescruellyjustifiedtheusurpation.Shehadthekindofbeautythatcomesofahappyaccordoffaceandspirit.Itisnotgiventomanytohavethelipsandeyesoftheirrarestmood,andsomewomengothroughlifebehindamaskexpressingonlytheiranxietyaboutthebutcher’sbillortheirinabilitytoseeajoke.WithMissTrent,faceandmindhadthesamehighseriouscontour.ShelookedlikeathronedJusticebysomegraveFlorentinepainter;anditseemedtoGlennardthathermostsalientattribute,orthatatleasttowhichherconductgavemostconsistentexpression,wasakindofpassionatejustice—theintuitivefemininejustnessthatissomuchrarerthanareasonedimpartiality.Circumstanceshadtragicallycombinedtodevelopthisinstinctintoaconscioushabit.Shehadseenmorethanmostgirlsoftheshabbysideoflife,oftheperpetualtendencyofwanttocrampthenoblestattitude.