onate tone. "I meant to have told it
you fifty times. There was n't a week in the last two years that I did
n't, at least, begin a letter to you about it I did more: I cut all
the things out of the newspapers and made a collection of them, and
intended, some day or other, you should read them. Indeed, it was only
because you seemed so happy there that, I spared you. I felt the day
must come, though. Know it you must, sooner or later, and better from me
than another I mean better for the other; for, by heaven! I 'd have shot
him who told you. Why don't you speak to me, girl? What's passing in
your mind?"

"I scarcely know," said she, in a hollow voice. "I don't quite feel sure
I am awake!"

"Yes!" cried he, with a terrible oath, "you _are_ awake; it was the past
was the dream! When you were the Princess, and every post brought you
some fresh means of extravagance,--_that_ was the dream! The world went
well with myself in those days. Luck stood to me in whatever I touched.
In all I ventured I was sure to come right, as if I had made my bargain
with Fortune. But the jade threw me over at last, that she did. From the
hour I went in against Hope's stables at Rickworth,--that's two years
and eleven days to-day,--I never won a bet! The greenest youngsters from
Oxford beat me at my own weapons. I went on selling,--now a farm, now a
house, now a brood mare. I sent the money all to you, girl, every guinea
of it. What I did myself I did on tick till the September settling at
Cottiswoode, and then it was all up. I was ruined!"

"Ruined!" echoed she, while she grasped his arm and drew him closer to
her side; "you surely had made friends--"

"Friends are capital things when the world goes well with you, but
friends are fond of a good cook and iced champagne, and they don't fancy
broken boots and a bad hat. Besides, what credit is to the merchant,
luck is to one of us. Let the word get abroad luck is against you; let
them begin to say, 'There 's that poor devil Davis in for it again; he's
so unlucky!'--once they say that, you are shunned like a fellow with the
plague; none will associate with you, none give you a helping hand or a
word of counsel. Why, the grooms wouldn't gallop if I was on the ground,
for fear my bad luck might strain a sinew and slip a ligament! And they
were right too! Smile if you like, girl,--I am not a very superstitious
fellow,--but nobody shall persuade me there ain't such a thing as luck.
Be that as it ma