e," she again chimed in his thought,
"the choice is not between the good and the less good, but between the
bad and the worse. Believe me, I understand and sympathise with your
hesitations. But between such friends as we are and such original
people to boot, scruples of a conventional kind ought not to enter.
With us money should count for nothing. So please don't choose 'the
worse,' and perhaps 'the bad' won't turn out so very bad after all."

Still he could not prevail upon himself to accept her generosity,
though conscious he was undeserving of her long-sufferance.

"If I could but see the least prospect of repaying you, I should not
hesitate so much," he said at last.

"My dear Morgan, in life one mustn't look too far ahead, else
existence becomes impossible. Let us not bother too much about the
future, but let us seize the flying moments; which means we ought to
go to Whitechapel on Thursday and spend a happy day."

He was still lost in thought.

"And your silence--may I put the usual interpretation on it?"

"I suppose so," he said, shame-facedly. "Please don't think me
ungracious," he added.

"You very dear person!" she cried; and after that they walked for
fully five minutes without exchanging a word.

The matter had been decided and, according to their wont, there was no
further manifestation, no further reference to it on either side. Each
understood the other's emotions, and that sufficed.

CHAPTER VIII.

"Shall I put you into a hansom?" said Morgan, looking at his watch as
they passed out of the park. "It is getting on towards two."

"Mayn't I come in and smoke a cigarette?" pleaded Lady Thiselton. "My
nerves have been tried a little, and a few minutes' rest will soothe
me."

"I fear the lady of the house would not approve."

"Oh! we shall creep in quietly without disturbing her pious dreams. Do
be nice, Morgan. You know I never smoke any other cigarettes than
yours--I am never wicked except in your company."

They entered almost noiselessly.

"How silent the night is," she remarked, "and what a feeling of
sleeping multitudes there is in the air! Suppose the morrow should
dawn and they should never awaken. I am shivering. Your room is cold,
though the moonlight is quite pretty."

He lighted his reading lamp under its big, green shade. She would not
have the gas--she liked the room full of dusk and shadow. The fire was
ready laid, and Morgan put a match to it, after which he proceed