e sky-line, as
it were, of his life, he invariably pictured himself as the fitting
companion of the fair creature he saw there. Who but himself could
understand the sentiment of her eyes, and teach her little love-ways,
and express unbounded admiration of her? More than one practical young
woman, indeed, in certain circles of London society, had been informed
by her friends that Mr. Lavender was dreadfully in love with her; and
had been much surprised, after this confirmation of her suspicions, that
he sought no means of bringing the affair to a reasonable and sensible
issue. He did not even amuse himself by flirting with her, as men would
willingly do who could not be charged with any serious purpose whatever.
His devotion was more mysterious and remote. A rumor would get about
that Mr. Lavender had finished another of those charming heads in
pastel, which, at a distance, reminded one of Greuze, and that Lady
So-and-so, who had bought it forthwith, had declared that it was the
image of this young lady who was partly puzzled and partly vexed by the
incomprehensible conduct of her reputed admirer. It was the fashion, in
these social circles, to buy those heads of Lavender when he chose to
paint them. He had achieved a great reputation by them. The good people
liked to have a genius in their own set whom they had discovered, and
who was only to be appreciated by persons of exceptional taste and
penetration. Lavender, the uninitiated were assured, was a most
cultivated and brilliant young man. He had composed some charming songs.
He had written, from time to time, some quite delightful little poems,
over which fair eyes had grown full and liquid. Who had not heard of the
face that he painted for a certain young lady whom every one expected
him to marry?

The young man escaped a great deal of the ordinary consequences of this
petting, but not all. He was at bottom really true-hearted, frank and
generous--generous even to an extreme--but he had acquired a habit of
producing striking impressions which dogged and perverted his every
action and speech. He disliked losing a few shilling at billiards, but
he did not mind losing a few pounds: the latter was good for a story.
Had he possessed any money to invest in shares, he would have been
irritated by small rises or small falls; but he would have been vain of
a big rise, and he would have regarded a big fall with equanimity, as
placing him in a dramatic light. The exaggerations