t was less concerned than he had been with George
Bertram junior, he was much more concerned than he had been with
George Bertram senior. He had in former days known nothing of the old
merchant; now he was, within certain bounds, almost intimate with
him; occasionally dined down at Hadley, and frequently consulted him
on money matters of deep import.

With Miss Baker, also, and Caroline Waddington, Mr. Harcourt was
intimate. Between him and Miss Baker there existed a warm friendship,
and with Caroline, even, he was on such terms that she often spoke
to him as to the deep troubles of her love and engagement. For these
were deep troubles, as will be seen also in the coming chapters.

George Bertram had been told by Miss Baker that Caroline was the
granddaughter of old Mr. Bertram, and George in his confidence with
his friend had told him the secret. Indeed, there had been hardly any
alternative, for George had been driven to consult his friend more
than once as to this delay in his marriage; and who can ever consult
a friend with advantage on any subject without telling him all the
circumstances?

It was after this that Harcourt and Miss Baker became so intimate.
The ladies at Littlebath had many troubles, and during those troubles
the famous young barrister was very civil to them. In the latter of
those two years that are now gone, circumstances had brought them up
to London for a couple of months in the spring; and then they saw
much of Mr. Harcourt, but nothing of George Bertram, though George
was still the affianced husband of Miss Waddington.

CHAPTER II.

RETROSPECTIVE.--FIRST YEAR.

George Bertram had returned to town that Sunday after the conference
in Miss Baker's little room not in the very best of moods. He had
talked glibly enough on his way back, because it had been necessary
for him to hide his chagrin; but he had done so in a cynical tone,
which had given Harcourt to understand that something was wrong. For
some ten days after that there had been no intercourse between him
and Littlebath; and then he had written a letter to Caroline, full
of argument, full also of tenderness, in which he essayed to move
her from her high resolve. He had certainly written strongly, if not
well. "He was working," he said, "nearly as hard as a man could work,
in order to insure success for her. Nothing he was aware but the idea
that he was already justified in looking on her as his wife would
have induced him t