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266 266 THE PORTEAIT OF A LADY. shall have earned it well." Absolutely void of success his career had not been ; a very moderate amount of reflection would have assured him of this. But his triumphs were, some of them, now, too old ; others had been too easy. The present one had been less difficult than might have been expected ; but it had been ' easy that is, it had been rapid only because he had made an altogether exceptional effort, a greater effort than he had believed it was in him to make. The desire to succeed greatly in something or other had been the dream of his youth ; but as the years went on, the conditions attached to success became so various and repulsive that the idea of making an effort gradually lost its charm. It was not dead, however ; it only slept ; it revived after he had made the acquaintance of Isabel Archer. Osmond had felt that any enterprise in which the chance of failure was at all considerable would never have an attraction for him ; to fail would have been unspeakably odious, would have left an ineffaceable stain upon his life. Success was to seem in advance definitely certain certain, that is, on this one condition, that the effort should be an agreeable one to make. That of exciting an interest on the part of Isabel Archer corresponded to this description, for the girl had pleased him from the first of his seeing her. We have seen that she thought him "fine"; and Gilbert Osmond returned the compli- ment. We have also seen (or heard) that he had a great dread of vulgarity, and on this score his mind was at rest with regard to our young lady. He was not afraid that she would disgust him or irritate him ; he had no fear that she would even, in the more special sense of the word, displease him. If she was too eager, she could be taught to be less so ; that was a fault which diminished with growing knowledge. She might defy him, she might anger him ; this was another matter from displeasing him, and on the whole a less serious one. If a woman were ungraceful and common, her whole quality was vitiated, and one could take no precautions against that ; one's own delicacy would avail little. If, however, she were only wilful and high- tempered, the defect might be managed with comparative ease ; for had one not a will of one's own that one had been keeping for years in the best condition as pure and keen as a sword protected by its sheath 1 Though I have tried to speak with extreme discretion, the reader may have gathered a suspicion that Gilbert Osmond was not untainted by selfishness. This is rather a coarse imputation to put upon a man of his refinement ; and it behoves us at all times to remember the familiar proverb about those who live in