"Your never having seen her under one of these attacks, and having only a recollection of her as being always bright and cheerful, would tend to prevent the realisation," said George. "I too always strive to think of her under her most cheerful aspect. God knows I would not willingly see her under any other." "It is a deuced bad look-out, there's no denying," said Paul; then added gloomily, "everything seems to be going to the bad just now." "I have been so wrapped-up in my own troubles that I have forgotten yours, Paul," said George. "Tell me, how are matters getting on between you and your young friend? Not very brilliantly, I fear, by your tone." "Brilliantly! No, anything but that. Infernal, I should say," said Paul. "I can't make her out; she seems perfectly changed since my absence from London. I am sure something must have happened; but I don't know what it is." "You recollect my hint to you at Beachborough about Theseus and Ariadne? You burst out into a rage then; what do you think now?" "I don't know what to think," said Paul, "though it looks something like it, I am bound to confess." "Then why don't you be a man, and break off the whole business at once?" "Now, I like that," said Paul; "I really like that suggestion from a man who has been talking as you have been talking to me. Do you think you could?" "No, I am sure I could not," said George. "It is the old story: giving advice is the easiest thing in the world; following it the most difficult. I----" "Hullo! here's Billy." It was indeed Mr. Dunlop, who entered the room at the moment, and stood in the doorway regarding the two friends, who were leaning over the desk together, with a comical aspect. "A very pretty picture indeed," said Mr. Dunlop. "'The Misers,' by Rembrandt, I think, or some other elderly parties of an obscure age. Whence this thusness? Do I intrude? If so, I am perfectly ready to withdraw. No one can ever say that W.D. forced himself into his office at times when his presence was not required there." "Come in, and don't be an idiot, Billy," said Paul. "George and I were just talking over some private matters; but we have finished now." "Private matters!" said Mr. Dunlop. "And by the look of you they must have been what the dramatist calls of 'serious import.' Confide in me. Come, rest on this bosom, my own stricken Deer-inzy. William is ready to give you advice, assistance, anything, indeed--except money. Of that latter article he is generally scarce; and Mr. Michael O'Dwyer has recently borrowed of him the attenuated remains of his quarterly stipend." "No, Billy; thanks all the same; I don't think you can be of much use to either of us just now," said George, with a smile. "If you really are serious in what you said just now about money, you can have what you want from me."