no longer in the first bloom of his youth. He had resigned to
his juniors, with pathetic expressions of regret, the making of love and
the fighting of duels. Ravaged by past passions, this dear innocent had
now found a refuge from swords, pistols, and the sex, in collecting
butterflies and playing on the guitar. I was free wholly to devote myself
to Lucilla; and I honestly rejoiced in the prospect before me. Alone with
her, and away from the rectory (where there was always danger off gossip
reaching her ears) I could rely on myself to protect her from harm in the
present, and to preserve her for Oscar in the future. With all my heart I
agreed to the arrangements as Grosse proposed them. When we parted in the
garden, he went round to the rector's side of the house to announce (in
his medical capacity) the decision at which he had arrived--while I, on
my side, went back to Lucilla to make the best excuses that I could
invent for Oscar, and to prepare her for our speedy removal from
Dimchurch.

"Gone, without coming to say good-bye! Gone, without even writing to me!"

There was the first impression I produced on her, when I had done my best
to account harmlessly for Oscar's absence. I had, as I thought, taken the
shortest and simplest way out of the difficulty, by merely inverting the
truth. In other words, by telling her that Nugent had got into some
serious embarrassment abroad, and that Oscar had been called away at a
moment's notice, to follow him and help him. It was in vain that I
reminded her of Oscar's well-known horror of leave-takings of all kinds;
in vain that I represented the urgency of the matter as leaving him no
alternative but to confide his excuses and his farewells to me; in vain
that I promised for him that he would write to her at the first
opportunity. She listened, without conviction. The more perseveringly I
tried to account for it, the more perseveringly she dwelt on Oscar's
unaccountable disregard of her claims on his consideration for her. As
for our journey to Ramsgate, it was impossible to interest her in the
subject. I gave it up in despair.

"Surely Oscar has left some address at which I can write to him?" she
said.

I could only answer that he was not sure enough of his movements to be
able to do that before he went away.

"It is more provoking than you think," she went on. "I believe Oscar is
afraid to bring his unfortunate brother into my presence. The blue face
startled me when I