orting her, and all the while feeling in a general fever about
her? You hauled her out of a crater, did you? By Jove! And what of
that? Why, that furnace that I pulled Ethel out of was worse than a
hundred of your craters. And yet, after all that, you think that I
could be swayed by the miserable schemes of a lot of Biggs's nieces!
And you scowl at a fellow, and get huffy and jealous. By Jove!"

After this speech, which was delivered with unusual animation, Hawbury
lighted a cigar, which he puffed at most energetically.

"All right, old boy," said Dacres. "A fellow's apt to judge others by
himself, you know. Don't make any more set speeches, though. I begin
to understand your position. Besides, after all--"

Dacres paused, and the dark frown that was on his brow grew still
darker.

"After all what?" asked Hawbury, who now began to perceive that
another feeling besides jealousy was the cause of his friend's gloomy
melancholy.

"Well, after all, you know, old fellow, I fear I'll have to give her
up."

"Give her up?"

"Yes."

"That's what you said before, and you mentioned Australia, and that
rot."

"The more I think of it," said Dacres, dismally, and regarding the
opposite wall with a steady yet mournful stare--"the more I think of
it, the more I see that there's no such happiness in store for me."

"Pooh, man! what is it all about? This is the secret that you spoke
about, I suppose?"

"Yes; and it's enough to put a barrier between me and her. Was I
jealous? Did I seem huffy? What an idiot I must have been! Why, old
man, I can't do any thing or say any thing."

"The man's mad," said Hawbury, addressing himself to a carved
tobacco-box on the table.

"Mad? Yes, I was mad enough in ever letting myself be overpowered by
this bright dream. Here have I been giving myself up to a phantom--an
empty illusion--and now it's all over. My eyes are open."

"You may as well open my eyes too; for I'll be hanged if I can see my
way through this!"

"Strange! strange! strange!" continued Dacres, in a kind of soliloquy,
not noticing Hawbury's words. "How a man will sometimes forget
realities, and give himself up to dreams! It was my dream of the
child-angel that so turned my brain. I must see her no more."

"Very well, old boy," said Hawbury. "Now speak Chinese a little for
variety. I'll understand you quite as well. I will, by Jove!"

"And then, for a fellow that's had an experience like mine--before and
since," cont