do it
again if an angel came in my way." He went to his club, and tried to
be jolly. He ordered a good dinner, and got some man to come and dine
with him. For an hour or so he held himself up, and did appear to be
jolly. But as he walked home at night, and gave himself time to think
over what had taken place with deliberation, he stopped in the gloom
of a deserted street and leaning against the rails burst into tears.
He had really loved her and she was never to be his. He had wanted
her,--and it is so painful a thing to miss what you want when you
have done your very best to obtain it! To struggle in vain always
hurts the pride; but the wound made by the vain struggle for a woman
is sorer than any wound so made. He gnashed his teeth, and struck the
iron railings with his stick;--and then he hurried home, swearing
that he would never give another thought to Lily Dale. In the dead of
the night, thinking of it still, he asked himself whether it would
not be a fine thing to wait another ten years, and then go to her
again. In such a way would he not make himself immortal as a lover
beyond any Jacob or any Leander?

The next day he went to his office and was very grave. When Sir
Raffle complimented him on being back before his time, he simply said
that when he had accomplished that for which he had gone, he had,
of course, come back. Sir Raffle could not get a word out from him
about Mr. Crawley. He was very grave, and intent upon his work. Indeed
he was so serious that he quite afflicted Sir Raffle;--whose mock
activity felt itself to be confounded by the official zeal of his
private secretary. During the whole of that day Johnny was resolving
that there could be no cure for his malady but hard work. He would
not only work hard at the office if he remained there, but he would
take to heavy reading. He rather thought that he would go deep into
Greek and do a translation, or take up the exact sciences and make
a name for himself that way. But as he had enough for the life of a
secluded literary man without his salary, he rather thought he would
give up his office altogether. He had a mutton chop at home that
evening, and spent his time in endeavouring to read out aloud to
himself certain passages from the Iliad;--for he had bought a Homer
as he returned from his office. At nine o'clock he went, half-price,
to the Strand Theatre. How he met there his old friend Boulger and
went afterwards to "The Cock" and had a supper need