re I shall see her again!"

Dorothea, clinging to the area railings, even in the imminence of
discovery had not the heart to leave them as he went out. Stupefied,
bewildered, benumbed, she could scarcely believe in the reality of the
scene she had witnessed. She felt it explained much that had lately
puzzled her exceedingly; but at present she was unequal to the task
of arranging her ideas so as to understand the mystery that enveloped
her.

Gradually the thunderstorm rolled away, the rain cleared off, the moon
shone out, and Dorothea reached her squalid home, drenched, cold,
weary, and sick at heart.

CHAPTER XVII

"WANTED--A LADY"

We must go back a few days to watch with Dick Stanmore through the sad
sorrowing hours that succeeded his step-mother's ball. I trust I have
not so described this gentleman as to leave an impression that he was
what young ladies call a romantic person. Romance, like port
wine, after-dinner slumbers, flannel next the skin, and such
self-indulgences, should be reserved as a luxury for after-life; under
no circumstances must it be permitted to impair the efficiency of
manhood in its prime. Dick Stanmore took his punishment with true
British pluck and pertinacity. It was a "facer." As it could not
possibly be returned, his instincts prompted him to "grin and bear
it." He had sustained a severe fall. His first impulse was to get up
again. None the less did nerves thrill and brain spin with the force
and agony of the blow. Perhaps the very nature that most resists,
suffers also the most severely from such shocks, as a granite wall
cracks and splinters to the round shot, while an earth-work accepts
that rushing missile with a stolid harmless thud.

Dick's composition was at least not earthy enough to let him go to bed
after this recent downfall of his hopes. Restless, hurt, sorrowful,
angry with himself, not _her_--for his nature could be gallantly
loyal under defeat--sleep was as impossible as any other occupation
requiring quietude and self-control. No. The only thing to be done was
to smoke, of course! and then to pack up everything he could lay hands
on, without delay, so as to leave London that very morning, for any
part of England, Europe, or the habitable world. All places would be
alike to him now, only the farther from Belgrave Square the better.
Therefore it was, perhaps, that, after shamming to breakfast, and
enduring considerable pain in a state of enforced inactivity