at him. "Horse! no!" he said, impatiently.
"You know what I mean, and what I am going
to say; you know you do. What is the use of
this affectation of carelessness? I am tired of it.
I want to speak very seriously."

"As seriously as you please," said Fermor;
"but, I hope, with quietness and decency.
Excuse my saying so. Indeed, if I did not know
that you are one of those honest sincere natures
that must say what they think, I assure you I
should," and he paused for a little and smiled,
"I should ring for a candle and go to bed."

"Not till you have listened to me," said the
other, standing up excitedly. " We were very
happy till you came, and she liked me—and it—
it—was all—settled almost. And now it is all
changed, and I am convinced you have something
to do with it. You know in your conscience you
have, Fermor!"

"What logic!" said Fermor, smiling almost
contemptuously. "But I suppose I am to
understand you are alluding to the second Miss
Manuel?"

"Yes, yes," said the other.

"Well, all I can say, Mr. Hanbury, is," said
Fermor, " you astonish me!"

"But that is not it," said the other, stopping
before him still more excitedly; " you are evading
the question—purposely evading it—you know
you are."

"But it is the question, excuse me," said
Fermor, very coldly. "Here is a person with
whom I have but the pleasure of a very slight
acquaintance, but whom I trust I shall come to
know better, comes bursting in on me at scarcely
a visiting hour, pours out a torrent of reproaches
about a young lady being changed, and says I
know it, and can't deny it. What is it, pray?
Well, if I do know and don't deny it? Really
this is what I must call very childish. Now
do, as a favour, sit down again and tell me what
it is you want, or what you complain of; and let
us talk rationally."

Hanbury, very much sobered by this speech, did
sit down, awkwardly, after a second's hesitation.

"Now listen to me," said Fermor, "for I will
reason with you. But as we have got so far
in the matter, we may as well finish with it to-
night. A lady you admire has suddenly changed
towards you. Very well; what have I to do
with that?"

"Exactly!" said Hanbury. "Now we are
coming to the point. It is very hard. It was all
settled. And we were so happy, and—and––
Why did you do it? I never injured you," he
added, piteously.

"Not intentionally," said Fermor, smiling.
"But, still reasoning with you (for to another
man I would say at once, 'Sir, you have no
business to bring me to account'), I ask you
again, what have I to do with it, having been
shut up here for three weeks? Do you suppose,
because a young girl, who has seen as little of
the world as a nun, grows a little cold, that you
are to go about from house to house venting
your grief? Really, I must say, for the lady's
sake, it is scarcely––"

Hanbury, who felt like a great fish in a great
net, feeling his helplessness, and, perhaps, some
truth in what had been said to him, now struck
out wildly, as it were. "I can't talk with you,
Mr. Fermor," he said; "I have no gifts that way.
But this must be settled one way to-night. I
want to know what you mean to do."

"Mean to do!" said Fermor. "That is a
wide question."

"It is far too important a matter to be quibbled
away in this fashion," said Hanbury. "You
know what I mean."

"To save time," said Fermor, "and supposing
that I do catch your meaning, suppose me to do
as you say I have done; or rather, what would
you have me do?"

"Give her up—yes, to speak plainly, give her
up. I know you are superior in many ways.
You have been in the world, and know how to
manage these things. Can't you find some of
the fine court ladies—they are more suited to you?
Do, and leave me her."

"I see it is hopeless," said Fermor. "In
fact, it is so very delicate a subject to discuss,
and if I were to speak freely on the matter, it
would not be respectful to our common friends.
If you mean by "giving up" to cut off visits, or
make any ridiculous marked exposé of the kind,
I decline to do so at once. It is much better to
be candid, you know. I can't afford to get into
an absurd position for anybody."

Hanbury looked at him hopelessly and
helplessly. "If I might suggest anything," continued
Fermor, "I should say the proper manly course
would be to exert yourself, and go in regularly
and win back your position. You know the old
saying about women having to be won."

"I see," said Hanbury. "I understand at
last. But don't be too confident, Mr. Fermor.
I know I am rough, and can't show off in a
drawing-room; but still I believe that honesty
and manliness will always have some sort of
weight of their own. We shall see how it will
turn out. I will take your good advice, though
I believe it was not meant to be taken."

"You're quite a privileged being here!" said
Fermor.

"I won't detain you longer," said Hanbury;
"but I see my way. I may know little of
women, but I should scorn to find my amusement,
or feed my vanity in what they call
'Conquest.' I should prefer trying to save them
from such a cruel fate."

"With all my heart," said Fermor, rising and
taking the candle; "a very proper rôle, which I
quite envy you. But let me tell you it requires
some gifts—something more than the mere will.
You may break down."

"Never!" said Hanbury, turning to go.

"We shall see," said Fermor. "Well, we
have agreed on something. And now will you
let me ask a favour?—only one—which is, not
to let us have any childish pettishness before