stion which Augustus asked himself was this--Was
it, or was it not practicable that Graham should remain there without
danger of intercourse with his sister? To Felix the question came in
a very different shape. After having spoken as he had spoken--might
he be allowed to remain there, enjoying such intercourse, or might he
not? That was the question to which he had unconsciously demanded an
answer;--and unconsciously he had still hoped that the question might
be answered in his favour. He had so hoped, although he was burdened
with Mary Snow, and although he had spoken of his engagement with
that lady in so rigid a spirit of self-martyrdom. But the question
had been answered against him. The offer of a further asylum in the
seclusion of that bedroom had been made to him by his friend with a
sort of proviso that it would not be well that he should go further
than the bedroom, and his inner feelings at once grated against each
other, making him wretched and almost angry.

"Thank you, no; I understand how kind you are, but I will not do
that. I will write up to-night, and shall certainly start to-morrow."

"My dear fellow--"

"I should get into a fever, if I were to remain in this house after
what I have told you. I could not endure to see you, or your mother,
or Baker, or Marian, or any one else. Don't talk about it. Indeed,
you ought to feel that it is not possible. I have made a confounded
ass of myself, and the sooner I get away the better. I say--perhaps
you would not be angry if I was to ask you to let me sleep for an
hour or so now. After that I'll get up and write my letters."

He was very sore. He knew that he was sick at heart, and ill at ease,
and cross with his friend; and knew also that he was unreasonable
in being so. Staveley's words and manner had been full of kindness.
Graham was aware of this, and was therefore the more irritated with
himself. But this did not prevent his being angry and cross with his
friend.

"Graham," said the other, "I see clearly enough that I have annoyed
you."

"Not in the least. A man falls into the mud, and then calls to
another man to come and see him. The man in the mud of course is not
comfortable."

"But you have called to me, and I have not been able to help you."

"I did not suppose you would, so there has been no disappointment.
Indeed, there was no possibility for help. I shall follow out the
line of life which I have long since chalked out for myself, and
I d