ve I done but make
every soul I know wretched about me? I follow my own inclinations--I
make people help me by lying as hard as they can--and I'm a liar. And
when I've got it I'm ashamed of myself. And now when I do see something
unselfish for me to do, I come upon grins--I don't know where to
turn--how to act--and I laugh at myself like a devil!"

It was only friend Ripton's ear that was required, so his words went
for little: but Ripton did say he thought there was small matter to be
ashamed of in winning and wearing the Beauty of Earth. Richard added his
customary comment of "Poor little thing!"

He fought his duello with empty air till he was exhausted. A last letter
written to his father procured him no reply. Then, said he, I have tried
my utmost. I have tried to be dutiful--my father won't listen to me. One
thing I can do--I can go down to my dear girl, and make her happy, and
save her at least from some of the consequences of my rashness.

"There's nothing better for me!" he groaned. His great ambition must
be covered by a house-top: he and the cat must warm themselves on the
domestic hearth! The hero was not aware that his heart moved him to
this. His heart was not now in open communion with his mind.

Mrs. Mount heard that her friend was going--would go. She knew he was
going to his wife. Far from discouraging him, she said nobly: "Go--I
believe I have kept you. Let us have an evening together, and then go:
for good, if you like. If not, then to meet again another time. Forget
me. I shan't forget you. You're the best fellow I ever knew, Richard.
You are, on my honour! I swear I would not step in between you and
your wife to cause either of you a moment's unhappiness. When I can be
another woman I will, and I shall think of you then."

Lady Blandish heard from Adrian that Richard was positively going to his
wife. The wise youth modestly veiled his own merit in bringing it about
by saying: "I couldn't see that poor little woman left alone down there
any longer."

"Well! Yes!" said Mrs. Doria, to whom the modest speech was repeated, "I
suppose, poor boy, it's the best he can do now."

Richard bade them adieu, and went to spend his last evening with Mrs.
Mount.

The enchantress received him in state.

"Do you know this dress? No? It's the dress I wore when I first met
you--not when I first saw you. I think I remarked you, sir, before
you deigned to cast an eye upon humble me. When we first met we drank