The library adjoining was crowded with gentlemen in black--they called it mourning--and they were eating and drinking cake and wine. Why should they not?--They would have done the same at a wedding. A little beautiful spaniel stood upon his hind legs to one of the mourners for a bit of cake. It was thrown to him; the dog caught it, and the _mourners_ laughed. It was all very well. Suddenly, however, they put on graver faces. Heaven! what a machine of falsehood is the face! The tongue may lie now and then--the face lies every minute. There was a little bustle at the door, and several of those near made way, speaking a few words to a young gentleman who entered, clothed, like the rest, in black, but with mourning written on his face. Where have we seen that face before? Is it Chandos? Surely it is. But yet how different is the air and manner; with what grave, sad dignity he passes on towards the spot at the other side of the room where Roberts, the steward, is standing, unconscious of his entrance! And who is that who stops him now, and shakes hands with him warmly, yet with a timid, half-averted eye--that pale young man with the waving fair hair around his forehead? Hark! Chandos answers him. "Well, quite well, Faber, I thank you. I have not been far distant; but I must speak to Roberts for a moment, and then," he added, slowly and solemnly, "I must go into the next room." "You had better not, Sir," said Mr. Faber, the late Sir Harry Winslow's secretary, speaking in a low, imploring tone; "indeed you had better not." "Do not be afraid, Faber," replied Chandos, "I have more command over myself now. I was too impetuous then. I was rash and hasty. Now I am calm; and nothing on earth would provoke me again to say one angry word. I shall ever be glad to hear of you, Faber; and you must write to me. Address your letters to the care of Roberts; he will be able to forward them." He was then moving on; but the young man detained him by the hand, saying, in a whisper, "Oh, think better of it, Chandos. Be reconciled to him." "That may be whenever he seeks reconciliation," answered Chandos; "but it will make no difference in my purposes. I will never be his dependent, Faber; for I know well what it is to be so."