the press of talking, laughing
guests passing down to the door, and I could do nothing but drop her
hand and leave her with a composed face, and my brain feeling literally
on fire. The perplexity, mystery, uncertainty, and irritation which
Lucia's illness and manner had poured suddenly in upon the elation, the
assured triumph, the excited expectations and eager desire with which I
had come, produced a state of thought in which I hardly recognised my
reasoning being.

I made my way over to Mrs. Grant with the conventional smile, and then,
once without the drawing-room, hurried down to the door and the night
air. In the hall I recognised, standing waiting for his carriage, a
familiar figure. It was a man I had known intimately in India: he was
home now on furlough, and as friends we were often invited to the same
houses.

"I say, Dick," I said, as I came up to him, "it's a lovely night. Are
you game for a walk? If so, send the carriage home and come with me
round to my place. I want your advice and condolences."

We were at the foot of the stairs. The other men and women had
collected nearer the door.

"Condolences! Why, yesterday you told me congratulations were the order
of the day!" he answered in a tone of good-natured raillery.

"They are so no longer," I answered, gloomily. "My head is simply
splitting too. I can't think where I get these confounded headaches," I
muttered, pushing the hair up off my forehead, and wishing I could push
off some of the oppressing ideas. "Are you coming with me, Dick?"

He looked at me attentively, and possibly seeing the excitement I tried
to suppress, and the flush it drove to my face, he debated my sobriety.
I think he came to the right conclusion, for the next moment he said,--

"Yes; I'll come. Just let me get my over coat and tell the coachman."

I had the same thing to do, and we met a second or two later at the
bottom of the steps, and turned to walk towards my place. As we walked
down the street he slipped his arm in mine and said,--

"You seem frightfully upset. What has happened?"

"That's just what I want to know!" I answered. "If I knew I should not
so much mind, but this is what I hate about women, they never will
speak out nor come to the point. It is the one great fault of the sex.
I despise it utterly. It can do no good, and it is most annoying and
irritating to a person who has a right to confidence."

"My dear fellow," he said, soothingly, "you can't expec