work too, investigating plans with
a resolution to understand them which was almost successful. During
those days he would remain at his office till past four o'clock, and
would then walk away with Theodore Burton, dining sometimes in Onslow
Crescent, and going there sometimes in the evening after dinner. And
when there he would sit and read; and once when Cecilia essayed to talk
to him, he told her to keep her apron-strings to herself. Then Theodore
laughed and apologized, and Cecilia said that too much work made Jack a
dull boy; and then Theodore laughed again, stretching out his legs and
arms as he rested a moment from his own study, and declared that, under
those circumstances, Harry never would be dull. And Harry, on those
evenings, would be taken up-stairs to see the bairns in their cots; and
as he stood with their mother looking down upon the children, pretty
words would be said about Florence and his future life; and all was
going merry as a marriage bell. But on that morning, when the note had
come from Lady Ongar, Harry could work no more to his satisfaction. He
scrawled upon his blotting-paper, and made no progress whatsoever toward
the understanding of anything. It was the day on which, in due course,
he would write to Florence; and he did write to her. But Florence did
not show this letter to Fanny, claiming for it any need of godlike
perfection. It was a stupid, short letter, in which he declared that he
was very busy and that his head ached. In a postscript he told her that
he was going to see Lady Ongar that evening. This he communicated to her
under an idea that by doing so he made everything right. And I think
that the telling of it did relieve his conscience.

He left the office soon after three, having brought himself to believe
in the headache, and sauntered down to his club. He found men playing
whist there, and, as whist might be good for his head, he joined them.
They won his money, and scolded him for playing badly till he was angry,
and then he went out for a walk by himself. As he went along Piccadilly,
he saw Sophie Gordeloup coming toward him, trotting along, with her
dress held well up over her ankles, eager, quick, and, as he said to
himself clearly intent upon some mischief. He endeavored to avoid her by
turning up the Burlington Arcade, but she was too quick for him, and was
walking up the arcade by his side before he had been able to make up his
mind as to the best mode of ridding himse