As regards a life-partner, were she disposed to relinquish the chance of future honors for present ease and happiness, there were many aspirants to the distinction; she might choose freely among the eligible bachelors of her acquaintance.  Two only of these, however, seemed to appeal to her sense of fitness—­Murray and Aston.

The former, a year or two older than herself, was a master at the same school; clever and capable, he was evidently destined to rise rapidly in his profession, and his future promise, together with his attractive personality, might well render him the more favored suitor.

Cuthbert Aston could not be compared with Murray as regarded intellect, attainments, or personal charm; but he had other attractions of no less weight in the eyes of a girl who had social ambitions.  His father had made money in business, and bore the reputation of possessing great wealth.  Cuthbert, was the only child of infatuated parents, who had spared no expense in his upbringing, and were ready to gratify his every whim.  For a genteel occupation he had been placed in a bank—­“not that it would be necessary for him to earn his living at it,” as Mrs. Aston was careful to inform her lady friends; “but it was well to give him something to do, and banking is not trade!  If the dear boy should get tired of the routine, he could easily take up something else more to his taste.”

Apart from his worldly prospects, there was little to attract a girl of Violet’s character toward Cuthbert Aston.  He was what men technically style “a bounder!” Yet, empty-headed, arrogant, self-centered though he might be, he was a rich man’s only son.  In Violet’s eyes that in itself condoned many flagrant defects.  The Astons moved in the highest circles of the city—­spite of Mrs. Aston’s “flamboyant” style and her husband’s demonstrative vulgarity; as a member of their family, therefore, her social status would be secure.

If the girl had any heart it must have pleaded on behalf of Bernard Murray—­young, handsome, lovable, as he was.  Nothing else except ambition could have allowed her to compare Aston with him.  There might, it is true, have been a spice of adventure connected with her encouragement of the latter; it was well known that his parents looked with dismay upon the prospect of their idolized boy “throwing himself away on that little school-teacher,” as his mother phrased it.

To do the Astons credit, their objection to Violet did not rest wholly upon an imagined social disparity; there was a much graver reason.  The girl lost no opportunity in proclaiming herself a pronounced Free-thinker.  Her mother had died while she was quite a child, and for her upbringing Violet had depended wholly upon her father—­an ardent Socialist as well as Atheist.  Thus she had grown up in an atmosphere thoroughly anti-religious, until death had claimed her father also.  Socialism had never strongly appealed to her, and was not likely to do so, under present circumstances; for religion she entertained a supercilious disdain, as “out-of-date nonsense.”