ou
can desire I should. Only YOU see it much more simply--and yet I can't
just now explain. If it WERE so simple I should say to you in a moment
'do speak to them for me'--I should leave the matter with delight in
your hands. But I require time, let me remind you, and you haven't yet
told me how much I may take."

This appeal had brought them again face to face, and Mr. Longdon's first
reply to it was a look at his watch. "It's one o'clock."

"Oh I require"--Vanderbank had recovered his pleasant humour--"more than
to-night!"

Mr. Longdon went off to the smaller table that still offered to view
two bedroom candles. "You must take of course the time you need. I won't
trouble you--I won't hurry you. I'm going to bed."

Vanderbank, overtaking him, lighted his candle for him; after which,
handing it and smiling: "Shall we have conduced to your rest?"

Mr. Longdon looked at the other candle. "You're not coming to bed?"

"To MY rest we shall not have conduced. I stay up a while longer."

"Good." Mr. Longdon was pleased. "You won't forget then, as we promised,
to put out the lights?"

"If you trust me for the greater you can trust me for the less.
Good-night."

Vanderbank had offered his hand. "Good-night." But Mr. Longdon kept him
a moment. "You DON'T care for my figure?"

"Not yet--not yet. PLEASE." Vanderbank seemed really to fear it, but on
Mr. Longdon's releasing him with a little drop of disappointment they
went together to the door of the room, where they had another pause.

"She's to come down to me--alone--in September."

Vanderbank appeared to debate and conclude. "Then may I come?"

His friend, on this footing, had to consider. "Shall you know by that
time?"

"I'm afraid I can't promise--if you must regard my coming as a pledge."

Mr. Longdon thought on; then raising his eyes: "I don't quite see why
you won't suffer me to tell you--!"

"The detail of your intention? I do then. You've said quite enough. If
my visit must commit me," Vanderbank pursued, "I'm afraid I can't come."

Mr. Longdon, who had passed into the corridor, gave a dry sad little
laugh. "Come then--as the ladies say--'as you are'!"

On which, rather softly closing the door, the young man remained alone
in the great emptily lighted billiard-room.

BOOK SIXTH. MRS. BROOK

Presenting himself at Buckingham Crescent three days after the Sunday
spent at Mertle, Vanderbank found Lady Fanny Cashmore in the act of
taking leave