in her study of perfection the aid of her mirror and to be
unconscious of her aims. There must certainly be at least one
dominant purpose: the achievement of success. Stephen did not
attempt to deny her own beauty; on the contrary she gave it the
fullest scope. There was a certain triumph in her glance as she took
her last look in her mirror; a gratification of her wish to show
herself in the best way possible. It was a very charming picture
which the mirror reflected.

It may be that there is a companionship in a mirror, especially to a
woman; that the reflection of oneself is an emboldening presence, a
personality which is better than the actuality of an unvalued
stranger. Certainly, when Stephen closed the door and stood in the
wainscoted passage, which was only dimly lit by the high window at
either end, her courage seemed at once to ooze away.

Probably for the first time in her life, as she left the shade of the
long passage and came out on the staircase flooded with the light of
the noonday sun, Stephen felt that she was a girl--'girl' standing as
some sort of synonym for weakness, pretended or actual. Fear, in
whatever form or degree it may come, is a vital quality and must
move. It cannot stand at a fixed point; if it be not sent backward
it must progress. Stephen felt this, and, though her whole nature
was repugnant to the task, forced herself to the effort of
repression. It would, she felt, have been to her a delicious
pleasure to have abandoned all effort; to have sunk in the lassitude
of self-surrender.

The woman in her was working; her sex had found her out!