“You will come and have some luncheon with us?” said Sheila when they had gone up the steps and into the King’s road. “Will that lady be there?” “Mrs. Lorraine? Yes.” “Then I’ll come some other time.” “But why not come now?” said Sheila. “It is not necessary that you will see us only to speak about those things we have been talking over?” “Oh, no, not at all. If you and Mr. Lavender were by yourselves, I should come at once.” “And are you afraid of Mrs. Lorraine?” said Sheila, with a smile. “She is a very nice lady, indeed: you have no cause to dislike her.” “But I don’t want to meet her, Sheila, that is all,” he said; and she knew well, by the precision of his manner, that there was no use trying to persuade him further. He walked along to the hotel with her, meeting a considerable stream of fashionably-dressed folks on the way; and neither he nor she seemed to remember that his costume--a blue pilot jacket, not a little worn and soiled with the salt water, and a beaver hat that had seen a good deal of rough weather in the Highlands--was a good deal more comfortable than elegant. He said to her, as he left her at the hotel: “Would you mind telling Lavender I shall drop in at half-past three, and that I expect to see him in the coffee-room? I shan’t keep him five minutes.” She looked at him for a moment, and he saw that she knew what this appointment meant, for her eyes were full of gladness and gratitude. He went away pleased at heart that she put so much trust in him. And in this case he should be able to reward that confidence, for Lavender was really a good sort of fellow, and would at once be sorry for the wrong he had unintentionally done, and be only too anxious to set it right. He ought to leave Brighton at once, and London, too. He ought to go away into the country or by the seaside, and begin working hard to earn money and self-respect at the same time; and then, in his friendly solitude, he would get to know something about Sheila’s character, and begin to perceive how much more valuable were these genuine qualities of heart and mind than any social graces such as might lighten up a dull drawing-room. Had Lavender yet learnt to know the worth of an honest woman’s perfect love and unquestioning devotion? Let these things be put before him, and he would go and do the right thing, as he had many a time done before, in obedience to the lecturing of his friend. Ingram called at half-past three, and went into the coffee-room. There was no one in the long, large room, and he sat down at one of the small tables by the windows, from which a bit of lawn, the King’s road and the sea beyond were visible. He had scarcely taken his seat when Lavender came in. “Halloo, Ingram! how are you?” he said in his freest and friendliest way. “Won’t you come up-stairs? Have you had lunch? Why did you go to the Ship?” “I always go to the Ship,” he said. “No, thank you, I won’t go up-stairs.”