“Then tell no more fibs. Such a fuss about nothing! What is a fib?” and she turned up her little nose very contemptuously at all such trivial souls as minded a little mendacity. Indeed, she disclaimed the importance of veracity so imperiously that Severne was betrayed into saying, “Well, not much, between you and me; and I'll be bound I can explain it.” “Explain it to me, then.” “Well, but I don't know--” “Which of your fibs it was.” Another silver burst of laughter. But Zoe only vouchsafed a slightly contemptuous movement of her shoulders. “Well, no,” said Severne, half laughing himself at the sprightly jade's smartness. “Well, then, that friend of yours that called at luncheon.” Severne turned grave directly. “Yes,” said he. “You said he was your lawyer, and came about a lease.” “So he did.” “And his name was Jackson. “So it was.” “This won't do. You mustn't fib to _me!_ It was Poikilus, a Secret Inquiry; and they all know it; now tell me, without a fib--if you can--what ever did you want with Poikilus?” Severne looked aghast. He faltered out, “Why, how could they know?” “Why, he advertises, stupid! and Lord Uxmoor and Harrington had seen it. Gentlemen _read_ advertisements. That is one of their peculiarities.” “Of course he advertises: that is not what I mean. I did not drop his card, did I? No; I am sure I pocketed it directly. What mischief-making villain told them it was Poikilus?” Fanny colored a little, but said, hastily, “Ah, that I could not tell you.” “The footman, perhaps?” “I should not wonder.” (What is a fib?) “Curse him!” “Oh, don't swear at the servants; that is bad taste.” “Not when he has ruined me?” “Ruined you?--nonsense! Make up some other fib, and excuse the first.” “I can't. I don't know what to do; and before my rival, too! This accounts for the air of triumph he has worn ever since, and her glances of scorn and pity. She is an angel, and I have lost her.” “Stuff and nonsense!” said Fanny Dover. “Be a man, and tell me the truth.” “Well, I will,” said he; “for I am in despair. It is all that cursed money at Homburg. I could not clear my estate without it. I dare not go for it. She forbade me; and indeed I can't bear to leave her for anything; so I employed Poikilus to try and learn whether that lady has the money still, and whether she means to rob me of it or not.” Fanny Dover reflected a moment, then delivered herself thus: “You were wrong to tell a fib about it. What you must do now--brazen it out. Tell her you love her, but have got your pride and will not come into her family a pauper. Defy her, to be sure; we like to be defied now and then, when we are fond of the fellow.” “I will do it,” said he; “but she shuns me. I can't get a word with her.”