what would be the result of his silence, he wrote no reply
to this letter. A fortnight elapsed; he strengthened himself in
stubbornness, aided by the catarrh, which many bottles of whisky would
not overcome. When his solitary confinement grew at length
insufferable, he sent for Narramore, and had not long to wait before
his friend appeared. Narramore was rosy as ever: satisfaction with life
beamed from his countenance.

"I've ordered you in some wine," he exclaimed genially, sinking into
the easy-chair which Hilliard had vacated for him--an instance of
selfishness in small things which did not affect his generosity in
greater. "It isn't easy to get good port nowadays, but they tell me
that this is not injurious. Hasn't young Birching been to see you? No,
I suppose he would think it _infra dig_. to come to this neighbourhood.
There's a damnable self-conceit in that family: you must have noticed
it, eh? It comes out very strongly in the girl. By-the-bye I've done
with her--haven't been there for three weeks, and don't think I shall
go again, unless it's for the pleasure of saying or doing something
that'll irritate her royal highness."

"Did you quarrel?"

"Quarrel? I never quarrel with anyone; it's bad for one's nerves."

"Did you get as far as proposing?"

"Oh, I left _her_ to do that. Women are making such a row about their
rights nowadays, that it's as well to show you grant them perfect
equality. I gave her every chance of saying something definite. I
maintain that she trifled with my affections. She asked me what my
views in life were. Ah, thought I, now it's coming; and I answered
modestly that everything depended on circumstances. I might have said
it depended on the demand for brass bedsteads; but perhaps that would
have verged on indelicacy--you know that I am delicacy personified. 'I
thought,' said Miss Birching, 'that a man of any energy made his own
circumstances?' 'Energy!' I shouted. 'Do you look for energy in _me_?
It's the greatest compliment anyone ever paid me.' At that she seemed
desperately annoyed, and wouldn't pursue the subject. That's how it
always was, just when the conversation grew interesting."

"I'm sorry to see you so cut up about it," remarked Hilliard.

"None of your irony, old fellow. Well, the truth is, I've seen someone
I like better."

"Not surprised."

"It's a queer story; I'll tell it you some day, if it comes to
anything. I'm not at all sure that it will, as there seems