Then he said, with a soothing sweetness: "Lionel Haughton, you have
the heart of a gentleman that can never listen to a frank apology for
unintentional wrong but what it springs forth to take the blame to itself
and return apology tenfold. Enough! A mistake no doubt, on both sides.
More time must elapse before either can truly say that he does not like
the other. Meanwhile," added Darrell, with almost a laugh,--and that
concluding query showed that even on trifles the man was bent upon either
forcing or stealing his own will upon others,--"meanwhile must I send
away the tailor?" I need not repeat Lionel's answer.




CHAPTER IX.

DARRELL--mystery in his past life--What has he done with it?

Some days passed, each day varying little from the other. It was the
habit of Darrell if he went late to rest to rise early. He never allowed
himself more than five hours sleep. A man greater than Guy Darrell--Sir
Walter Raleigh--carved from the solid day no larger a slice for Morpheus.
And it was this habit perhaps, yet more than temperance in diet, which
preserved to Darrell his remarkable youthfulness of aspect and frame, so
that at fifty-two he looked, and really was, younger than many a strong
man of thirty-five. For, certain it is, that on entering middle life,
he who would keep his brain clear, his step elastic, his muscles from
fleshiness, his nerves from tremor,--in a word, retain his youth in spite
of the register,--should beware of long slumbers. Nothing ages like
laziness. The hours before breakfast Darrell devoted first to exercise,
whatever the weather; next to his calm scientific pursuits. At ten