but
another day in the sunshine of Rose.

Andrew, too, threw out genial hints about the Brewery. Old Tom intended
to retire, he said, and then they would see what they would see! He
silenced every word about Lymport; called him a brewer already, and made
absurd jokes, that were serviceable stuff nevertheless to the Countess,
who deplored to this one and to that the chance existing that Evan
might, by the urgent solicitations of his brother-in-law, give up
diplomacy and its honours for a brewery and lucre!

Of course Evan knew that he was managed. The memoirs of a managed man
have yet to be written; but if he be sincere he will tell you that
he knew it all the time. He longed for the sugar-plum; he knew it was
naughty to take it: he dared not for fear of the devil, and he shut
his eyes while somebody else popped it into his mouth, and assumed his
responsibility. Being man-driven or chicaned, is different from being
managed. Being managed implies being led the way this other person
thinks you should go: altogether for your own benefit, mind: you are to
see with her eyes, that you may not disappoint your own appetites: which
does not hurt the flesh, certainly; but does damage the conscience; and
from the moment you have once succumbed, that function ceases to perform
its office of moral strainer so well.

After all, was he not happier when he wrote himself tailor, than when he
declared himself gentleman?

So he now imagined, till Rose, wishing him 'Good night' on the balcony,
and abandoning her hand with a steady sweet voice and gaze, said: 'How
generous of you to forgive my friend, dear Evan!' And the ravishing
little glimpse of womanly softness in her, set his heart beating. If he
thought at all, it was that he would have sacrificed body and soul for
her.

CHAPTER XIX. SECOND DESPATCH OF THE COUNTESS

We do not advance very far in this second despatch, and it will be found
chiefly serviceable for the indications it affords of our General's
skill in mining, and addiction to that branch of military science. For
the moment I must beg that a little indulgence be granted to her.

'Purely business. Great haste. Something has happened. An event? I know
not; but events may flow from it.

'A lady is here who has run away from the conjugal abode, and Lady
Jocelyn shelters her, and is hospitable to another, who is more
concerned in this lady's sad fate than he should be. This may be morals,
my dear: but please do n