now that
she is another man's wife. If you find her, nothing can come of it."

"It is the man I want to find, John; the man whom I shall make it the
business of my life to discover."

"For what good?"

"For the deadliest harm to him," Gilbert answered moodily. "If ever he
and I meet, I will have some payment for my broken life; some
compensation for my ruined hopes. We two should not meet and part
lightly, rely upon it."

"You can make no excuse for his love, that fatal irresistible passion,
which outweighs truth and honour when they are set in the opposite scale.
I did not think you could be so hard, Gilbert; I thought you would have
more mercy on the man who wronged you."

"I could pardon any injury but this. I will never forgive this."

John Saltram shrugged his shoulders with a deprecating air.

"It is a mistake, my dear fellow," he said. "Life is not long enough for
these strong passions. There is nothing in the world worth the price
these bitter hatreds and stormy angers cost us. You have thrown away a
great deal of deep feeling on a lady, whose misfortune it was not to be
able to return your affection as she might have done--as you most fully
deserved at her hands. Why waste any further emotion in regrets that we
as useless as they are foolish?"

"You may as well ask me why I exist," Gilbert answered quietly. "Regret
for all I have lost is a part of my life."

After this there was no more to be said, and Mr. Saltram went on to speak
of pleasanter topics. The two men dined together, and sat by the fire
afterwards with a bottle of claret between them, smoking their cigars,
and talking till late into the night.

It was not to be supposed that Adela Branston's name could be omitted
entirely from this confidential talk.

"I have seen nothing and heard very little of her while I have been
away," John Saltram said, in answer to a question of Gilbert's; "but I
called in Cavendish-square this afternoon, and was fortunate enough to
find her at home. She wants me to dine with her next Sunday, and I half
promised to do so. Will you come too? I know that she would be glad to
see you."

"I cannot see that I am wanted, John."

"But I tell you that you are wanted. I wish you to go with me. Mrs.
Branston likes you amazingly, if you care to know the opinion of so
frivolous a person."

"I am very much flattered by Mrs. Branston's kindly estimate of me, but I
do not think I have any claim to it, except the fact tha