nother; which is virtually the curse of love.

"And he passed along the road," adds the Philosopher, "a weaker man, a
stronger lover. Not that love should diminish manliness or gains by so
doing; but travelling to love by the ways of Sentiment, attaining to the
passion bit by bit, does full surely take from us the strength of our
nature, as if (which is probable) at every step we paid fee to move
forward. Wilfrid had just enough of the coin to pay his footing. He was
verily fining himself down. You are tempted to ask what the value of him
will be by the time that he turns out pure metal? I reply, something
considerable, if by great sacrifice he gets to truth--gets to that
oneness of feeling which is the truthful impulse. At last, he will stand
high above them that have not suffered. The rejection of his cigar."

This wages too absurd. At the risk of breaking our partnership for ever,
I intervene. My Philosopher's meaning is plain, and, as usual, good; but
not even I, who have less reason to laugh at him than anybody, can
gravely accept the juxtaposition of suffering and cigars. And, moreover,
there is a little piece of action in store.

Wilfrid had walked half way to Brookfield, when the longing to look upon
the Richford chamber-windows stirred so hotly within him that he returned
to the gates. He saw Captain Gambier issuing on horseback from under the
lamp. The captain remarked that it was a fine night, and prepared to ride
off, but Wilfrid requested him to dismount, and his voice had the
unmistakeable ring in it by which a man knows that there must be no
trifling. The captain leaned forward to look at him before he obeyed the
summons, All self-control had abandoned Wilfrid in the rage he felt at
Gambier's having seen Emilia, and the jealous suspicion that she had
failed to keep her appointment for the like reason.

"Why do you come here?" he said, hoarsely.

"By Jove! that's an odd question," said the captain, at once taking his
ground.

"Am I to understand that you've been playing with my sister, as you do
with every other woman?"

Captain Gambier murmured quietly, "Every other woman?" and smoothed his
horse's neck. "They're not so easily played with, my dear fellow. You
speak like a youngster."

"I am the only protector of my sister's reputation," said Wilfrid, "and,
by heaven! if you have cast her over to be the common talk, you shall
meet me."

The captain turned to his horse, saying, "Oh! Well!" Being m