Then she had as it were relapsed into the hands of Lord Nidderdale,--one of her early suitors,--and had felt that as love was not to prevail, and as it would be well that she should marry some one, he might probably be as good as any other, and certainly better than many others. She had almost learned to like Lord Nidderdale and to believe that he liked her, when the tragedy came. Lord Nidderdale had been very good-natured,--but he had deserted her at last. She had never allowed herself to be angry with him for a moment. It had been a matter of course that he should do so. Her fortune was still large, but not so large as the sum named in the bargain made. And it was moreover weighted with her father's blood. From the moment of her father's death she had never dreamed that he would marry her. Why should he? Her thoughts in reference to Sir Felix were bitter enough;--but as against Nidderdale they were not at all bitter. 
Then she had as it were relapsed into the hands of Lord Nidderdale, and felt that he would probably be as good as any other. She had almost learned to like him when the tragedy came, and he had deserted her. She had not been at all angry or bitter. 