, who read the account, observed
that there was no reference whatever to quadrilles of various
nationalities--Egyptian or otherwise; and she rather wondered at the
omission. But it did not occur to her to suppose that this portion of
the entertainment had been entirely imaginary--a lurid figment of
Harry's vivid fancy and fertile invention.

He left, it must be said, on the old lady a lasting impression--by no
means an unfavourable one. Even when she had reason to grow seriously
anxious again on the same subject, she never could bring herself in her
own mind to blame Harry--she could not at heart think ill of him. She
was only extremely angry with Romer and Valentia.

CHAPTER XI

THE FRIENDS

Harry had baffled Mrs. Wyburn for the time. He always dealt with his
difficulties one by one as they cropped up, not _en masse_, and
invariably in a manner that relieved the tension for a short time
only--he rarely did anything radical.

His financial position was, however, growing rather serious, and
occasionally the thought of Miss Walmer flitted through his mind.

To marry Miss Walmer would be far the quickest and simplest way out of
his difficulties, and she would really be very little trouble, as little
trouble, perhaps, as any wife could be. Besides, Harry had, with reason,
great confidence in his own powers of dealing with women--getting
whatever it was that he wanted from them, and afterwards preventing
their being a nuisance. But he did not much like the idea of this
mercenary marriage, because he was not in the least tired of his romance
with Valentia, and saw great difficulties in the way of keeping it up
later on. He had worrying doubts as to her consenting to revive it
afterwards if he married.

Her grey eyes and soft fair hair with its dense waves held a lasting
fascination for him. It has been well said that for each individual
there exists in some other being some detail which he or she could find
only in this particular person. It might be the merest trifle. Harry
knew what it was in Val that had a specially compelling charm to him--it
was the way her hair grew on her forehead. And there was something
childlike in her expression that made a peculiar appeal to him. The
power her face had over him was undiminished--it had begun seriously
when he painted her portrait, and had grown gradually since then. And
she was the only woman he had ever met whose affection for him did not
cool his own enthusiasm.