down and crush me miserable beneath their weight. And then her brother
challenged me to fight a duel, whereupon, as the most worshipped of all
She's had not received a ha'porth of harm at my hands, I called him a
silly ass and threatened to break his head if he interfered any more
in my legitimate despair. I smile at it now; but it was real at
two-and-twenty--as real, I take it, as Dale's consuming passion for the
lady of the circus.

There was also, I remembered, a certain ---- But this had nothing to do
with Dale. Neither had the tragedy of my lost Clothilde. The memories,
however, brought a wistful touch of sympathy into my voice.

"You soberly think, my dear old Dale," said I, "that I know nothing of
love and passion and the rest of the divine madness?"

"I'm sure you don't," he cried, with an impatient gesture. "If you did,
you wouldn't--"

He came to an abrupt and confused halt.

"I wouldn't--what?"

"Nothing. I forgot what I was going to say. Let us talk of something
else."

"It was on the tip of your impulsive tongue," said I cheerfully, "to
refer to my attitude towards Miss Faversham."

"I'm desperately sorry," said he, reddening. "It was unpardonable. But
how did you guess?"