say how deeply. My lawyer, however, does know, and I will confer with
him."

"This is a matter of small consequence, and does not press: besides, I
beg you will not let it trouble you."

The measured coldness with which these words were spoken seemed to jar
painfully on Pracontal's temper, for he snatched his hat from the table,
and with a hurried "Adieu--adieu, then," left the room. The carriages of
the hotel were waiting in the courtyard to convey the travellers to the
station.

"Where is the train starting for?" asked he of a waiter.

"For Civita, sir."

"Step up to my room, then, and throw my clothes into a
portmanteau--enough for a few days. I shall have time to write a note, I
suppose?"

"Ample, sir. You have forty minutes yet." Pracontal opened his
writing-desk and wrote a few lines to Lady Augusta, to tell how a
telegram had just called him away--it might be to Paris, perhaps London.
He would be back within ten days, and explain all. He wished he might
have her leave to write, but he had not a moment left him to ask the
permission. Should he risk the liberty? What if it might displease her?
He was every way unfortunate; nor, in all the days of a life of changes
and vicissitudes, did he remember a sadder moment than this in which he
wrote himself her devoted servant, A. Pracontal de Bramleigh. This done,
he jumped into a carriage, and just reached the train in time to start
for Civita.

There was little of exaggeration when he said he had never known greater
misery and depression than he now felt. The thought of that last meeting
with Longworth overwhelmed him with sorrow. When we bear in mind how
slowly and gradually the edifice of friendship is built up; how many of
our prejudices have often to be overcome; how much of self-education
is effected in the process; the thought that all this labor of time and
feeling should be cast to the winds at once for a word of passion or a
hasty expression, is humiliating to a degree. Pracontal had set great
store by Long-worth's friendship for him. He had accepted great favors
at his hand; but so kindly and so gracefully conferred as to double the
obligations by the delicacy with which they were bestowed. And this was
the man whose good feeling for him he had outraged and insulted beyond
recall. "If it had been an open quarrel between us, I could have stood
his fire and shown him how thoroughly I knew myself in the wrong; but
his cold disdain is more than I can bea