"
Isabel's eyes expanded as she gazed at this lurid scene. "What are
my illusions?" she asked. "I try so hard not to have any."
"Well," said Henrietta, "you think you can lead a romantic life,
that you can live by pleasing yourself and pleasing others. You'll
find you're mistaken. Whatever life you lead you must put your soul in
it- to make any sort of success of it; and from the moment you do that
it ceases to be romance, I assure you: it becomes grim reality! And
you can't always please yourself; you must sometimes please other
people. That, I admit, you're very ready to do; but there's another
thing that's still more important- you must often displease others.
You must always be ready for that- you must never shrink from it. That
doesn't suit you at all- you're too fond of admiration, you like to be
thought well of. You think we can escape disagreeable duties by taking
romantic views- that's your great illusion, my dear. But we can't. You
must be prepared on many occasions in life to please no one at all-
not even yourself."
Isabel shook her head sadly; she looked troubled and frightened.
"This, for you, Henrietta," she said, "must be one of those
occasions!"
It was certainly true that Miss Stackpole, during her visit to
Paris, which had been professionally more remunerative than her
English sojourn, had not been living in the world of dreams.
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