s on the top bar whilst
he talked to him.

"What is the matter?" asked the latter.

"Not much."

"I have finished my letters, so I came out to look for you. You are not
changed, Elster."

"What should change me in so short a time?--it's only six months since
you last saw me," retorted Hartledon, curtly.

"I alluded to your nature. I had to worm the troubles out of you in the
old days, each one as it arose. I see I shall have to do the same now.
Don't say there's not much the matter, for I am sure there is."

Lord Hartledon jerked his handkerchief out of his pocket, passed it over
his face, and put it back again.

"What fresh folly have you got into?--as I used to ask you at Oxford. You
are in some mess."

"I suppose it's of no use denying that I am in one. An awful mess, too."

"Well, I have pulled you out of many a one in my time. Let me hear it."

"There are some things one does not like to talk about, Carr. I sent for
you in my perplexity; but I believe you can be of no use to me."

"So you have said before now. But it generally turned out that I was of
use to you, and cleared you from your nightmare."

"All those were minor difficulties; this is different."

"I cannot understand your 'not liking' to speak of things to me. Why
don't you begin?"

"Because I shall prove myself worse than a fool. You'll despise me to
your heart's core. Carr, I think I shall go mad!"

"Tell me the cause first, and go mad afterwards. Come, Val; I am your
true friend."

"I have made an offer of marriage to two women," said Hartledon,
desperately plunging into the revelation. "Never was such a born idiot
in the world as I have been. I can't marry both."

"I imagine not," quietly replied Mr. Carr.

"You knew I was engaged to Miss Ashton?"

"Yes."

"And I'm sure I loved her with all my"--he seemed to hesitate for a
strong term--"might and main; and do still. But I have managed to get
into mischief elsewhere."

"Elster's folly, as usual. What sort of mischief?"

"The worst sort, for there can be no slipping out of it. When that fever
broke out at Doctor Ashton's--you heard us talking of it last night,
Carr--I went to the Rectory just as usual. What did I care for fever?--it
was not likely to attack me. But the countess-dowager found it out--"

"Why do they stay here so long?" interrupted Thomas Carr. "They have been
here ever since your brother died."

"And before it. The old woman likes her quarters, and has no