all to him
from any sphere.

"You would have me run away?--I don't see how I can do that," he said,
quietly; and then he abruptly changed the subject. "What did you think
of Lady Adela?"

"Well, to tell you the truth, I've been wondering whether she were at
the same time a smart and clever woman and an abject fool, or whether
she were simply smart and clever and thought me an abject fool. It must
be either one or the other. She played the literary _ingenue_ very
well--a little too openly, perhaps. I'm curious about her book--"

"Oh, don't judge of her by her book!" Lionel exclaimed. "That isn't
fair. Her book you may very likely consider foolish--not at all. I
suppose her head is a little bit turned by the things that Quirk and
those fellows have been writing about her; but that's only natural. And
if she showed her hand a little too freely in trying to interest you in
her novel, you must remember how eager she is to succeed. You'll do what
you can for her book--won't you, Maurice?"

Maurice Mangan, on his way home that night, had other things to think of
than Lady Adela's poor little book. He saw clearly enough the
embroilment into which Lionel had landed himself; but he could not see
so clearly how he was to get out of it. One question he forgot to ask:
what had induced that mood of petulance or recklessness, or both
combined, in which Lionel had wilfully and madly pledged all his future
life? However, the thing was done; here was his friend going forward to
a _mariage de convenance_ (where there was very little _convenance_, to
be sure) with a sort of careless indifference, if not of bravado; while
his bride, on the other hand, might surely be pardoned if she resented,
and indignantly resented, his attitude towards her. What kind of
prospect was this for two young people? Maurice thought that on the very
first opportunity he would go away down to Winstead and talk the matter
over with Francie; who than she more capable of advising in aught
concerning Lionel's welfare?

Notwithstanding his intercession with Maurice on behalf of Lady Adela's
forthcoming novel, Lionel did not seem disposed to resume the friendly
relations with the people up at Campden Hill which had formerly existed.
He did not even call after the dinner-party. If Mr. Octavius Quirk were
for the moment installed as chief favorite, he had no wish to interfere
with him; there were plenty of other houses open, if one chose to go.
But the fact is, Lio