NEVER FORGOTTEN.

PART THE FIRST.
CHAPTER XXXIV. FAUST AND MEPHISTOPHELES.

THAT day of the Manuel little party—and
Violet had taken all its responsibilities on
herself—seemed almost to trail by. Fermor was
still fretting against what he thought the
"unmeaningness" of the whole affair. Why,
however, should they mind him? It was only to be
expected that they would take their own course.
No letters by post that morning. He had a
good mind not to go at all, the thing was so
absurd; but then if he got unwell and stayed
away, he would be talked of, and asked about,
and looked at, which would be yet more absurd.
Above all, there would be a scene—tears and
injured looks, and that kind of pressure.

Hanbury had gone away for a few days, but
had come back express the night before. His
passage—some hundred and twenty pounds'
worth—had been taken and paid for out, and
the splendid fast steamer had sailed out of
Southampton a week before. Groaning chests,
ranked under the title of "heavy luggage," had
been put on board a sailing ship, and the sailing
ship had weighed anchor and dropped down the
Thames, so that was lost as well as the passage
money. He "sold off" many things, furniture,
dogs, horses—among others, the famous brute
that had won the fatal race—hurriedly, and at a
sacrifice. So here was further loss. Yet he
did not care. He was beginning actually to live
again, to breathe, to stretch his arms. He was
seen to walk fast and excitedly, not to slouch
along. His hopelessness was being mixed up
with uncertainty—which was an improvement;
just as a condemned prisoner is encouraged
when he knows that powerful exertions are being
made for a reprieve.

Major Carter, who had got letters that morning,
met him in the little street. Hanbury was
full of importance. The major turned back
with him.

"A great day for Eastport," said the major,
cheerily. "We are all so interested in our
friend's little adventure. Quod faustum, &c.,
you know the quotation"—which Hanbury did
not. "They are charming girls—what I call a
sweetness about them."

Hanbury turned on him eyes that almost
swam. "Indeed they are," he said; and out
of gratitude he could not but add: "and I
know, I am sure, they like you."

"I dare say Miss Violet does," said the other,
"I don't think Miss Pauline quite so much.
She, Miss Violet, is so soft and winning; like
the flower she is called after, so retiring and
delicate. Do you know, my dear Hanbury, I
often get uneasy when I think of the rough
east winds—you understand me?" Hanbury
sighed heavily. "And that, I will confess to
you," added the major, lightly touching the arm
of his friend, "is the only thing that gives me
a little uneasiness on her score—I mean, our
friend Fermor, who, though he has a fine natural
disposition, and is full of the best points, is
scarcely suited—you understand. And now,
do you know, it has occurred to me lately, that
some such idea has lately come upon her gentle
mind; and it has been remarked," added the
major, with mystery, "by others, too."

Hanbury became irresolute. "Fermor," he
said, "is indeed scarcely suited. I doubt if he
understands her."

"He is really a fine character," said the
major, warmly, "and is my friend. But I tell
you candidly I never liked this match. He
is for the world. She is for quiet domestic
happiness. Poor sweet child! I can see she is
even now turning back to old days. Another
sort of nature would have suited her better. It
is too late now to go back."

"Yes," said Hanbury, gloomily.

"But," said the major, "I am very glad of
this opening, for I have wished to speak to you,
and you are not a man to misunderstand frankness.
It would not do—it would not answer—
and would be scarcely fair—"

"How!" said Hanbury, colouring.

"I say I wish it could be undone, but it
can't. No, it lies on you. You must discourage
it as much as you can. She is young and
impulsive, and cannot hide her feelings. But you
must be generous, and make the sacrifice."

Clumsily disguised pleasure flashed in
Hanbury's eyes. He could hardly contain himself.
"You know," said he, confidentially, "I owe
nothing to Fermor. He used me unfairly. It
is an open game between us. Besides," he
added, with pride, "if I could only save
her——"

"Hush!" said the major, "this is all in
confidence. I merely threw out the hint. Fermor
would be in a fury if he knew it. I must go.