the parties, and see them almost every day, and
I say the whole thing is false — false in every
particular; and I am sure after this you will not
repeat it any more." The "young fellow," who
had not yet lost the virgin bloom of youth,
nor had learnt to consider Reputations to be
mere low delf figures, with which he could
play at "knocks" and "smash" at so many
shots for a penny, became a little ashamed, and
said he was sure it was a mistake. But the old
colonel looked on with disgust, and repeated
that though he knew nothing of the parties, he
was " cursed" sure it was no mistake, and that
every one of " the lot" — meaning ladies— were
"skittish," and "up to that game," if you only
"knew how to take them, dammy!")

Yet Fermor, as he listened, grew furious.
"And do you mean to tell me you did this—
made me and her the talk of a coffee-room? It
will be all over the town! I tell you, I don't
want this championship, or patronage either."

"Patronage!" said John Hanbury.

"I don't, I tell you!" the other went on, with
increasing excitement. "I suppose it is well-meaning,
and all that sort of thing. But I don't
want it. I wish to God you would leave me and
my concerns alone. I don't want any man to be
defending my wife in coffee-rooms."

"But can you wonder at other people," said
Hanbury, quietly, "when you do not seem to do
it yourself? Surely when you, who should naturally
protect and watch over her—"

"That is my concern," said Fermor, " quite my
concern. Upon my word, it is coming to a pretty
pass — But I must now request—"

"I am astonished," said Hanbury, "I am
shocked. I could not believe it of you. Such
utter and miserable infatuation. It is charitable
to suppose you do not see the danger. It is
coming nearer every moment. What do you
suppose is my concern in this matter? Do you
fancy if it were any one else I should expose myself
to what might be said? Ah, I may not tell
you all. But there is one to whose name I am
bound for life, in whom all that I can do or live
for is centred. You know who that is as well as
I. She has appointed me to this task. Her
heart is set on it. And through me she tells you,
fly, fly from this place, from this country, and take
that poor girl with you. It is the only chance!"

During this speech, wonder, almost stupefaction,
and rage, succeeded each other in Fermor.
Wonder at the superior tone and weight Hanbury
was assuming; stupefaction at the message he
brought; and, finally, rage at the confidence and
undertaking it implied.

"I am very glad you tell me this," he said,
with trembling lips. "That shows me how I
can trust the rest of your advice. Miss Manuel—
think of such a thing! — send me such a message,
and by you! " He laughed aloud at the notion.
"My good Hanbury, don't come advising me
again. You don't know the world, I can see
very clearly."

"I tell you it is so, on my word of honour,"
said the other. " She loves Mrs. Fermor. She
would help and save her. Listen to me, listen
to her, Fermor. Only yesterday she conjured me
to persuade you. She would give the world that
you would go away, and take her advice. Do! I
implore of you, Fermor."

"How little you know," said Fermor, struggling
with the superiority. " Poor Hanbury.
Women can easily persuade you. Ah, my good
friend, in time you will come to learn that there
is more meaning behind what women say than
what you would fancy. Often the very contrary to
what they say. Well, Hanbury, you are not
QUITE in her councils, I can tell you." (The
opportunity was overpowering, and could not be
resisted. He went on:) " I only say this much:
she has her reasons, of course, for speaking to
you; but, I can tell you, I am about the last
person in town she would wish to leave it."

The triumph in his eye was so intelligible,
the flush of vanity to his face so marked, and the
miserable egotism of the man so naked, that the
whole truth came upon Hanbury like an inspiration.
He started back, as though some one had
suddenly whispered in his ear, "That weak
blinded Fermor believes Miss Manuel to be in
love with him."

"O, Fermor," he exclaimed, almost with contempt,
"to see you sunk so low as this!"

Fermor coloured.

"You are indeed blind," Hanbury went on.
"I was not prepared for this. I now see it is
hopeless. It explains all. Be a man! Get rid
of these delusions! It is laughable. She, who
so lived for and loved that sister! Why, if there
was one whom she should dislike and punish, and
whom, indeed, I know she — But forgive me.
I am speaking for your good, you know."

Fermor's fury and mortification combined
were now at their height. " You come to insult
me," he said. " I don't want you. Don't interfere
in my concerns again; I shall take it up
seriously, if you do. It is going too far. Never
interfere with me again. I warn you."

"Very well," said Hanbury; " you must take
your course. I now see it all. It is the old
infatuation, and you are scarcely accountable.
You shall not offend me, Fermor, and I shall help
you yet, in spite of yourself."

Fermor was left in a state scarcely to be described.
It was the insufferable air of patronage
and of superior information and wisdom that
galled him more than anything in the world, and,
above all, that sort of privity with Miss Manuel
For the first time, too, an uneasy suspicion flashed
upon him as to there being some truth in what that
"stupid lumbering blundering fellow" had hinted.

From this moment a bitter fretful desire
entered into Fermor to meet with Romaine and
quarrel with him. This was indeed but a disguise
for that wish to punish some one for the mortifications
that were being heaped on him. Fighting
was exploded, and not to be dreamed of;
and he knew very well that the cool Romaine
would not suffer it to come to that. So he