was likewise out of the
question that he should enter every house and shop, and battle with its
master in the cause of Mrs. Mount. Where, then, was his enemy? Everybody
was his enemy, and everybody was nowhere! Shall he convoke multitudes on
Wimbledon Common? Blue Policemen, and a distant dread of ridicule, bar
all his projects. Alas for the hero in our day!

Nothing teaches a strong arm its impotence so much as knocking at empty
air.

"What can I do for this poor woman?" cried Richard, after fighting his
phantom enemy till he was worn out.

"O Rip! old Rip!" he addressed his friend, "I'm distracted. I wish I was
dead! What good am I for? Miserable! selfish! What have I done but make
every soul I know wretched about me? I follow my own inclinations--I make
people help me by lying as hard as they can--and I'm a liar. And when
I've got it I'm ashamed of myself. And now when I do see something
unselfish for me to do, I come upon grins--I don't know where to
turn--how to act--and I laugh at myself like a devil!"

It was only friend Ripton's ear that was required, so his words went for
little: but Ripton did say he thought there was small matter to be
ashamed of in winning and wearing the Beauty of Earth. Richard added his
customary comment of "Poor little thing!"

He fought his duello with empty air till he was exhausted. A last letter
written to his father procured him no reply. Then, said he, I have tried
my utmost. I have tried to be dutiful--my father won't listen to me. One
thing I can do--I can go down to my dear girl, and make her happy, and
save her at least from some of the consequences of my rashness.

"There's nothing better for me!" he groaned. His great ambition must be
covered by a house-top: he and the cat must warm themselves on the
domestic hearth! The hero was not aware that his heart moved him to this.
His heart was not now in open communion with his mind.

Mrs. Mount heard that her friend was going--would go. She knew he was
going to his wife. Far from discouraging him, she said nobly: "Go--I
believe I have kept you. Let us have an evening together, and then go:
for good, if you like. If not, then to meet again another time. Forget
me. I shan't forget you. You're the best fellow I ever knew, Richard. You
are, on my honour! I swear I would not step in between you and your wife
to cause either of you a moment's unhappiness. When I can be another
woman I will, and I shall think of you then."

Lady