and hypochondriacal reveries. Pacing
to and fro that part of the peristyle which occupied the more retired
wing of the house, with his arms folded, his eyes downcast, his brows
knit, and all the angel darkened on that countenance which formerly
looked as if, like truth, it could shame the devil and defy the world,
Ernest followed the evil thought that mastered him, through the Valley
of the Shadow. Suddenly he was aware of something--some obstacle which
he had not previously encountered. He started, and saw before him
a young man, of plain dress, gentlemanlike appearance, and striking
countenance.

"Mr. Maltravers, I think," said the stranger, and Ernest recognised the
voice that had so disturbed him: "this is lucky; we can now introduce
ourselves, for I find Cleveland means us to be intimate. Mr. Lumley
Ferrers, Mr. Ernest Maltravers. There now, I am the elder, so I first
offer my hand, and grin properly. People always grin when they make a
new acquaintance! Well, that's settled. Which way are you walking?"

Maltravers could, when he chose it, be as stately as if he had never
been out of England. He now drew himself up in displeased astonishment;
extricated his hand from the gripe of Ferrers, and saying, very coldly,
"Excuse me, sir, I am busy," stalked back to his chamber. He threw
himself into his chair, and was presently forgetful of his late
annoyance, when, to his inexpressible amazement and wrath, he heard
again the sharp, clear voice close at his elbow.

Ferrers had followed him through the French casement into the room.
"You are busy, you say, my dear fellow. I want to write some letters:
we sha'n't interrupt each other--don't disturb yourself:" and Ferrers
seated himself at the writing-table, dipped a pen into the ink, arranged
blotting-book and paper before him in due order, and was soon employed
in covering page after page with the most rapid and hieroglyphical
scrawl that ever engrossed a mistress or perplexed a dun.

"The presuming puppy!" growled Maltravers, half audibly, but effectually
roused from himself; and examining with some curiosity so cool an
intruder, he was forced to own that the countenance of Ferrers was not
that of a puppy.

A forehead compact and solid as a block of granite, overhung small,
bright, intelligent eyes of a light hazel; the features were handsome,
yet rather too sharp and fox-like; the complexion, though not highly
coloured, was of that hardy, healthy hue which generally