s.

But his mind was now trained direct on London, his earliest ambition. He
had made his way with surprising quickness in the provinces, and still
he was not happy.

"Who is happy?" asked his friend. "Call no man happy until he is
dead!--Solon was at his wisest there."

"Happiness is worth pursuing, all the same," Henry returned, lamely
enough, since he allowed the pagan fallacy to pass unquestioned. "I
shan't be happy till I try my luck in London; and if not then--well,
we'll see."

Truly, his mind was seriously unsettled by the spell of this man's
strange personality.

Henry's eyes were turned to London, but he was soon to find that there
was one person who did not relish the prospect, for reasons of her own.

CHAPTER XVII

THE WAY OF A WOMAN

"WHAT makes you think of London, when you're doing so well in Laysford?"
Flo Winton asked her sweetheart, strolling one Sunday by the banks of
the Lays.

"But well in Laysford may be ill in London," he replied.

"That's just it. Why not be content, and don't play the dog with the
bone?"

A woman seldom sees beyond the end of her nose. Flo Winton was no doubt
perfectly honest in her counsel to Henry, and entirely selfish. Let his
professional chances go hang; he was doing pretty well in Laysford, and
she rather fancied the town as a place to live in. Besides, "out of
sight, out of mind."

"It is the reverse from the dog and the bone," returned Henry. "What I
now hold is little better than the mere shadow of success, the real
thing is only to be found in Fleet Street. Comfort, food, raiment,
furniture, money to spend--these can be earned in the provinces, but
the success I aim at must be sought in London."

"Dear me! And what will you do with it when you've found it--if you ever
do so?"

This was scarcely lover-like, and Henry felt the implied sneer; but he
was determined not to be shaken from his plan. He did not answer Flo.

"Money to keep a nice home and go about a bit among the smart set of the
town--isn't that success?" she continued. "You are working that way
here. You're a somebody here; in London you'd be one of the crowd. At
least, that's what I believe."

"And I too, Flo. Fancy being a somebody in a town whose Lord Mayor can
barely sign his name, whose chief constable is a habitual drunkard,
whose town clerk wouldn't be fit for devilling to a London barrister,
whose whole corporation