"It is so confoundedly undignified," he said to himself. "I can't think of a plan that is safe. But never mind, patience--and something will turn up. We must wait. I can get a look at my darling now and then, and that must do till better days arrive." But human nature has its bounds of endurance, and after seeing Maude one day in the Park in company with washed-out, overdressed Sir Grantley Wilters, Charley Melton could bear it no more. "What's the good of living in this confounded England," he exclaimed, "where a man cannot wring his rival's neck or knock out his enemy's brains without there being a row. I must do it, there is no other means that I can see but I'll have one more try first." He went off straight to Portland Place, and as he came within sight of the house, to his great delight he caught sight of Maude in the large covered space with its huge pots of evergreens over the portico. She was leaning on the railing and gazing pensively down, and as Charley Melton drew nearer he found that she was listening to the music of a loud-toned organ played by a tall, broad-shouldered, swarthy Italian, who waved his hand and raised his hat, and smiled and bowed till the lady dropped something white into his extended felt broad brim, in response to which he kissed his hand, and the lady still looked down. Charley Melton thought little of it at the moment as he crossed the road, when just as he was half-way across the broad way Maude raised her head, saw him, and fled quickly into the house. "She needn't have been in such a precious hurry," said Melton to himself; "but never mind, I'll make a big effort to see her this time, at all events." He went boldly across the pavement to reach the front door and ring, and as he did so Luigi Malsano followed him, turning his handle the while. "Ah, signore!" he whined, as he smiled and showed his white teeth, "povero Italiano." "Yes, you handsome scoundrel," said Charley Melton to himself, "I should like your poverty. Allowed to come here, and rewarded by her in her gentle love and kindliness. What is the scoundrel glaring at?" For Luigi's eyes seemed to him to emit a peculiarly sinister or baleful glare that was not pleasant. "No, no, go away!" said Melton impatiently. Just then the door opened, and Robbins the pompous appeared. "Not at home, sir," he said, before he was asked. "Take my card, Robbins, and ask Lord Barmouth to see me." "I dursen't, sir; I dursen't indeed," said the butler in a whisper. "It's more than my place is worth, sir, and his lordship couldn't see you, he couldn't indeed." "Why not?"