harlie, comforting himself.

CHAPTER V

A SECOND EDITION

"Don't you think it's an interesting sort of title?" inquired Lady
Deane of Mr. Laing.

Laing was always a little uneasy in her presence. He felt not only that
she was analyzing him, but that the results of the analysis seemed to
her to be a very small residuum, of solid matter. Besides, he had been
told that she had described him as a "commonplace young man," a thing
nobody could be expected to like.

"Capital!" he answered, nervously fingering his eye glass. "The
Transformation of Giles Brockleton! Capital!"

"I think it will do," said Lady Deane complacently.

"Er--what was he transformed into, Lady Deane?"

"A man," replied the lady emphatically.

"Of course. I see," murmured Laing apologetically, stifling a desire to
ask what Giles had been before.

A moment later the author enlightened him.

"Yes," said she, "into a man, from a useless, mischievous, contemptible
idler, a parasite, Mr. Laing, a creature to whom----"

"What did it, Lady Deane?" interrupted Laing hastily. He felt somehow
as if he were being catalogued.

"Just a woman's influence."

Laing's face displayed relief; he felt that he was in his depth again.

"Oh, got married, you mean? Well, of course, he'd have to pull up a
bit, wouldn't he? Hang it, I think it's a fellow's duty.

"You don't quite understand me," observed Lady Deane coldly. "He did
not marry the woman."

"What, did she give him the--I mean, wouldn't she have him, Lady Deane?"

"She would have married him; but beside her he saw himself in his true
colors. Knowing what he was, how could he dare? That was his
punishment, and punishment brought transformation."

As Lady Deane sketched her idea, her eyes kindled and her tone became
animated. Laing admired both her and her idea, and he expressed his
feeling's by saying:

"Remarkable sort of chap, Lady Deane. I shall read it all right, you
know."

"I think you ought," said she, rising, and leaving him to wonder
whether she had "meant anything."

He gave himself a little shake, as though to escape from the atmosphere
of seriousness which she had diffused about him, and looked round. A
little way off he saw Dora Bellairs and Charlie Ellerton sitting side
by side. His brow clouded. Before Charlie came it had been his
privilege to be Miss Bellairs's cavalier, and although he never hoped,
nor, to tell the truth, desired more than a temporary favor in her
eye