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yes； but I don't think he'll come。 He recommended me not to expect
him。〃 Then she gaily but all gently added： 〃He said it wasn't
fair to you。 But I think I could manage two。〃
〃So could I；〃 Paul Overt returned； stretching the point a little to
meet her。 In reality his appreciation of the occasion was so
completely an appreciation of the woman before him that another
figure in the scene； even so esteemed a one as St。 George； might
for the hour have appealed to him vainly。 He left the house
wondering what the great man had meant by its not being fair to
him； and； still more than that； whether he had actually stayed away
from the force of that idea。 As he took his course through the
Sunday solitude of Manchester Square； swinging his stick and with a
good deal of emotion fermenting in his soul； it appeared to him he
was living in a world strangely magnanimous。 Miss Fancourt had
told him it was possible she should be away； and that her father
should be； on the following Sunday； but that she had the hope of a
visit from him in the other event。 She promised to let him know
should their absence fail； and then he might act accordingly。
After he had passed into one of the streets that open from the
Square he stopped； without definite intentions； looking sceptically
for a cab。 In a moment he saw a hansom roll through the place from
the other side and come a part of the way toward him。 He was on
the point of hailing the driver when he noticed a 〃fare〃 within；
then he waited； seeing the man prepare to deposit his passenger by
pulling up at one of the houses。 The house was apparently the one
he himself had just quitted； at least he drew that inference as he
recognised Henry St。 George in the person who stepped out of the
hansom。 Paul turned off as quickly as if he had been caught in the
act of spying。 He gave up his cab … he preferred to walk； he would
go nowhere else。 He was glad St。 George hadn't renounced his visit
altogether … that would have been too absurd。 Yes； the world was
magnanimous； and even he himself felt so as； on looking at his
watch； he noted but six o'clock； so that he could mentally
congratulate his successor on having an hour still to sit in Miss
Fancourt's drawing…room。 He himself might use that hour for
another visit； but by the time he reached the Marble Arch the idea
of such a course had become incongruous to him。 He passed beneath
that architectural effort and walked into the Park till he got upon
the spreading grass。 Here he continued to walk； he took his way
across the elastic turf and came out by the Serpentine。 He watched
with a friendly eye the diversions of the London people； he bent a
glance almost encouraging on the young ladies paddling their
sweethearts about the lake and the guardsmen tickling tenderly with
their bearskins the artificial flowers in the Sunday hats of their
partners。 He prolonged his meditative walk； he went into
Kensington Gardens； he sat upon the penny chairs； he looked at the
little sail…boats launched upon the round pond and was glad he had
no engagement to dine。 He repaired for this purpose； very late； to
his club； where he found himself unable to order a repast and told
the waiter to bring whatever there was。 He didn't even observe
what he was served with； and he spent the evening in the library of
the establishment； pretending to read an article in an American
magazine。 He failed to discover what it was about； it appeared in
a dim way to be about Marian Fancourt。
Quite late in the week she wrote to him that she was not to go into
the country … it had only just been settled。 Her father； she
added； would never settle anything； but put it all on her。 She
felt her responsibility … she had to … and since she was forced
this was the way she had decided。 She mentioned no reasons； which
gave our friend all the clearer field for bold conjecture about
them。 In Manchester Square on this second Sunday he esteemed his
fortune less good； for she had three or four other visitors。 But
there were three or four compensations； perhaps the greatest of
which was that； learning how her father had after all； at the last
hour； gone out of town alone； the bold conjecture I just now spoke
of found itself becoming a shade more bold。 And then her presence
was her presence； and the personal red room was there and was full
of it； whatever phantoms passed and vanished； emitting
incomprehensible sounds。 Lastly； he had the resource of staying
till every one had come and gone and of believing this grateful to
her； though she gave no particular sign。 When they were alone
together he came to his point。 〃But St。 George did come … last
Sunday。 I saw him as I looked back。〃
〃Yes； but it was the last time。〃
〃The last time？〃
〃He said he would never come again。〃
Paul Overt stared。 〃Does he mean he wishes to cease to see you？〃
〃I don't know what he means；〃 the girl bravely smiled。 〃He won't
at any rate see me here。〃
〃And pray why not？〃
〃I haven't the least idea；〃 said Marian Fancourt； whose visitor
found her more perversely sublime than ever yet as she professed
this clear helplessness。
CHAPTER V
〃Oh I say； I want you to stop a little；〃 Henry St。 George said to
him at eleven o'clock the night he dined with the head of the
profession。 The company … none of it indeed OF the profession …
had been numerous and was taking its leave； our young man； after
bidding good…night to his hostess； had put out his hand in farewell
to the master of the house。 Besides drawing from the latter the
protest I have cited this movement provoked a further priceless
word about their chance now to have a talk； their going into his
room； his having still everything to say。 Paul Overt was all
delight at this kindness； nevertheless he mentioned in weak jocose
qualification the bare fact that he had promised to go to another
place which was at a considerable distance。
〃Well then you'll break your promise； that's all。 You quite awful
humbug！〃 St。 George added in a tone that confirmed our young man's
ease。
〃Certainly I'll break it … but it was a real promise。〃
〃Do you mean to Miss Fancourt？ You're following her？〃 his friend
asked。
He answered by a question。 〃Oh is SHE going？〃
〃Base impostor！〃 his ironic host went on。 〃I've treated you
handsomely on the article of that young lady： I won't make another
concession。 Wait three minutes … I'll be with you。〃 He gave
himself to his departing guests； accompanied the long…trained
ladies to the door。 It was a hot night； the windows were open； the
sound of the quick carriages and of the linkmen's call came into
the house。 The affair had rather glittered； a sense of festal
things was in the heavy air： not only the influence of that
particular entertainment； but the suggestion of the wide hurry of
pleasure which in London on summer nights fills so many of the
happier quarters of the complicated town。 Gradually Mrs。 St。
George's drawing…room emptied itself； Paul was left alone with his
hostess； to whom he explained the motive of his waiting。 〃Ah yes；
some intellectual； some PROFESSIONAL； talk；〃 she leered； 〃at this
season doesn't one miss it？ Poor dear Henry； I'm so glad！〃 The
young man looked out of the window a moment； at the called hansoms
that lurched up； at the smooth broughams that rolled away。 When he
turned round Mrs。 St。 George had disappeared； her husband's voice
rose to him from below … he was laughing and talking； in the
portico； with some lady who awaited her carriage。 Paul had
solitary possession； for some minutes； of the warm deserted rooms
where the covered tinted lamplight was soft； the seats had been
pushed about and the odour of flowers lingered。 They were large；
they were pretty； they contained objects of value； everything in
the picture told of a 〃good house。〃 At the end of five minutes a
servant came in with a request from the Master that he would join
him downstairs； upon which； descending； he followed his conductor
through a long passage to an apartment thrown out； in the rear of
the habitation； for the special requirements； as he guessed； of a
busy man of letters。
St。 George was in his shirt…sleeves in the middle of a large high
room … a room without windows； but with a wide skylight at the top；
that of a place of exhibition。 It was furnished as a library； and
the serried bookshelves rose to the ceiling； a surface of
incomparable tone produced by dimly…gilt 〃backs〃 interrupted here
and there by the suspension of old prints and drawings。 At the end
furthest from the door of admission was a tall desk； of great
extent； at which the person using it could write only in the erect
posture of a clerk in a counting…house； and stretched from the
entrance to this structure was a wide plain band of crimson cloth；
as straight as a garden…path and almost as long