necessary instrument. Wedded to one she loved, like Mainwaring, the
ambition, as we have said in a former chapter, could have lived in
another, and become devoted to intellectual efforts, in the nobler desire
for power based on fame and genius. But now she had the gloomy cravings
of one fallen, and the uneasy desire to restore herself to a lost
position; she fed as an aliment upon scorn to bitterness of all beings
and all things around her. She was gnawed by that false fever which
riots in those who seek by outward seemings and distinctions to console
themselves for the want of their own self-esteem, or who, despising the
world with which they are brought in contact, sigh for those worldly
advantages which alone justify to the world itself their contempt.

To these diseased infirmities of vanity or pride, whether exhibited in
Gabriel or Lucretia, Dalibard administered without apparent effort, not
only by his conversation, but his habits of life. He mixed with those
much wealthier than himself, but not better born; those who, in the hot
and fierce ferment of that new society, were rising fast into new
aristocracy,--the fortunate soldiers, daring speculators, plunderers of
many an argosy that had been wrecked in the Great Storm. Every one about
them was actuated by the keen desire "to make a fortune;" the desire was
contagious. They were not absolutely poor in the proper sense of the
word "poverty," with Dalibard's annuity and the interest of Lucretia's
fortune; but they were poor compared to those with whom they associated,-
-poor enough for discontent. Thus, the image of the mighty wealth from
which, perhaps, but a single life divided them, became horribly haunting.
To Gabriel's sensual vision the image presented itself in the shape of
unlimited pleasure and prodigal riot; to Lucretia it wore the solemn
majesty of power; to Dalibard himself it was but the Eureka of a
calculation,--the palpable reward of wile and scheme and dexterous
combinations. The devil had temptations suited to each.