was at hand to
laugh at them. Mivanway would write down all her sorrows in a bulky
diary, which made her feel worse; so that before she had written for ten
minutes her pretty, unwise head would drop upon her dimpled arm, and the
book--the proper place for which was behind the fire--would become damp
with her tears; and Charles, his day's work done and the clerks gone,
would linger in his dingy office and hatch trifles into troubles.

The end came one evening after dinner, when, in the heat of a silly
squabble, Charles boxed Mivanway's ears. That was very ungentlemanly
conduct, and he was heartily ashamed of himself the moment he had done
it, which was right and proper for him to be. The only excuse to be
urged on his behalf is that girls sufficiently pretty to have been spoilt
from childhood by everyone about them can at times be intensely
irritating. Mivanway rushed up to her room, and locked herself in.
Charles flew after her to apologise, but only arrived in time to have the
door slammed in his face.

It had only been the merest touch. A boy's muscles move quicker than his
thoughts. But to Mivanway it was a blow. This was what it had come to!
This was the end of a man's love!

She spent half the night writing in the precious diary, with the result
that in the morning she came down feeling more bitter than she had gone
up. Charles had walked the streets of Newcastle all night, and that had
not done him any good. He met her with an apology combined with an
excuse, which was bad tactics. Mivanway, of course, fastened upon the
excuse, and the quarrel recommenced. She mentioned that she hated him;
he hinted that she had never loved him, and she retorted that he had
never loved her. Had there been anybody by to knock their heads together
and suggest breakfast, the thing might have blown over, but the combined
effect of a sleepless night and an empty stomach upon each proved
disastrous. Their words came poisoned from their brains, and each
believed they meant what they said. That afternoon Charles sailed from
Hull, on a ship bound for the Cape, and that evening Mivanway arrived at
the paternal home in Bristol with two trunks and the curt information
that she and Charles had separated for ever. The next morning both
thought of a soft speech to say to the other, but the next morning was
just twenty-four hours too late.

Eight days afterwards Charles's ship was run down in a fog, near the
coast of Portugal,