luence was repudiated; my
Moral Weight was, so to speak, set aside. And now you see the result.
Take it to heart, dear friend. May it be a warning to you!" He sighed
with ponderous complacency, and turned from me to the girl behind the
counter. "I will take another cup of tea."

Oscar's reception of me, when I found him on the platform, and told him
next of Lucilla's critical state, was more than discouraging. It is no
exaggeration to say that he alarmed me. "Another item in the debt I owe
to Nugent!" he said. Not a word of sympathy, not a word of sorrow. That
vindictive answer, and nothing more.

We started for Sydenham.

From time to time, I looked at Oscar sitting opposite to me, to see if
any change appeared in him as we drew nearer and nearer to the place in
which Lucilla was now living. No! Still the same ominous silence, the
same unnatural self-repression possessed him.

Except the momentary outbreak, when Mr. Finch had placed Nugent's letter
in his hand on the previous evening, not the faintest token of what was
really going on in his mind had escaped him since we had left Marseilles.
He, who could weep over all his other griefs as easily and as
spontaneously as a woman, had not shed a tear since the fatal day when he
had discovered that his brother had played him false--that brother who
had been the god of his idolatry, the sacred object of his gratitude and
his love! When a man of Oscar's temperament becomes frozen up for days
together in his own thoughts--when he keeps his own counsel; when he asks
for no sympathy, and utters no complaint--the sign is a serious one.
There are hidden forces gathering in him which will burst their way to
the surface--for good or for evil--with an irresistible result. Watching
Oscar attentively behind my veil, I felt the certain assurance that the
part he would take in the terrible conflict of interests now awaiting us,
would be a part which I should remember to the latest day of my life.

We reached Sydenham, and went to the nearest hotel.

On the railway--with other travelers in the carriage-it had been
impossible to consult on the safest method of approaching Lucilla, in the
first instance. That serious question now pressed for instant decision.
We sat down to discuss it, in the room which we had hired at the hotel.

CHAPTER THE FORTY-NINTH

On the Way to the End. Third Stage

ON former occasions of doubt or difficulty, it had always been Oscar's
habit to follow