That was all settled, all plain sailing. He was a young man, and in love; but it must be observed he was not also a fool. He would show all who knew him he was no fool. The life he now saw before him was simple, straightforward, pleasant. Dora was beautiful, and good, and clever, and in his part of popular politician would be an ornament by his side, and, perhaps, a help to him in his career. She was a dear girl, and would adorn any position to which he might aspire, to which he might climb. Yes, he was a young man, he was in love, but he was no fool, and he knew that Dora would think less of him, would think nothing at all of him, if she believed him to be a fool. Between lovers there ought to be confidence, freedom of speech. She would esteem him all the more for being candid and plain with her. What was this he had to say to her? Oh, yes, he recollected---- Dora and he were sitting close to one another in the window-place where Leigh and he had found her earlier. The long June day had faded into luminous night; the blinds had not been lowered, or the lamps in the room lit. The long, soft, cool, blue midsummer twilight was still and delicious for any people, but especially for lovers. CHAPTER XVIII. IN THE DARK. "Well, Dora," he began, "this has been an exciting day." "Yes," she said softly, and added with tender anxiety, "I hope you have quite recovered? I hope you do not feel any bad effects of--of--of--what happened to you, Jack?" She did not know how he would take even this solicitous reference to his fainting. "I feel quite well, dearest. Do not let us talk of that affair again. That cabman brought you quite safe?" "Oh, quite safe," she said gently. "Tell me what happened after you left me?" It gratified her that he thought of her. She had accused him of selfishness, now he was showing that his first thought was of her. With the self-sacrificing spirit of her sex she was satisfied with a little sympathy on her own account. She wanted to give him all her sympathy now. "Of course, I know you found Mr. Leigh. What an extraordinary man. Is he a little mad, do you think?" "A good deal mad, I fancy, with conceit," he said impatiently. Leigh, personally, had been a misfortune, and now the memory of him was exasperating and a bore. The ungentleness of the answer jarred upon the girl's heart. Leigh had suffered such miserable wrongs at the hand of fate, that surely he was deserving of all consideration and compassion. His bodily disabilities made him more helpless and piteous than a lonely, deserted child. "Tell me all," she said. "It was so good of you to bring him here. I felt quite proud of you when I saw you coming with him. Many men would have been afraid to trust so uncouth a man with so unpleasant a secret into this room of a Thursday." She spoke to encourage Hanbury, by anticipating in part his account of the generous thing she fancied he had done.