--"

"Stop a bit, Carr; I had not come to it," interrupted Lord Hartledon, who
in point of fact had been holding back what he called the climax, in his
usual vacillating manner. "One ill-starred day, when it was pouring cats
and dogs, and I could not get out, I challenged Maude to a game at
billiards. Maude lost. I said she should pay me, and put my arm round her
waist and snatched a kiss. Just at that moment in came the dowager, who I
believe must have been listening--"

"Not improbably," interrupted Mr. Carr, significantly.

"'Oh, you two dear turtle-doves,' cried she, 'Hartledon, you have made me
so happy! I have seen for some weeks what you were thinking of. There's
nobody living I'd confide that dear child to but yourself: you shall have
her, and my blessing shall be upon you both.'

"Carr," continued poor Val, "I was struck dumb. All the absurdity of the
thing rose up before me. In my confusion I could not utter a word. A man
with more moral courage might have spoken out; acknowledged the shame and
folly of his conduct and apologized. I could not."

"Elster's folly! Elster's folly!" thought the barrister. "You never had
the slightest spark of moral courage," he observed aloud, in pained
tones. "What did you say?"

"Nothing. There's the worst of it. I neither denied the dowager's
assumption, nor confirmed it. Of course I cannot now."

"When was this?"

"In December."

"And how have things gone on since? How do you stand with them?"

"Things have gone on as they went on before; and I stand engaged to
Maude, in her mother's opinion; perhaps in hers: never having said myself
one word to support the engagement."

"Only continued to 'make love,' and 'snatch a kiss,'" sarcastically
rejoined Mr. Carr.

"Once in a way. What is a man to do, exposed to the witchery of a pretty
girl?"

"Oh, Percival! You are worse than I thought for. Where is Miss Ashton?"

"Coming home next Friday," groaned Val. "And the dowager asked me
yesterday whether Maude and I had arranged the time for our marriage.
What on earth I shall do, I don't know. I might sail for some remote land
and convert myself into a savage, where I should never be found or
recognized; there's no other escape for me."

"How much does Miss Ashton know of this?"

"Nothing. I had a letter from her this morning, more kindly than her
letters have been of late."

"Lord Hartledon!" exclaimed Mr. Carr, in startled tones. "Is it possible
that you are carryin