"Quite right, Len," he said, hoarsely. "I am an unreasoning fool! What have I done? I've behaved like a blackguard! I've got this angel to admit that she loved me--me, a beggar--more than a beggar! But I swear I forgot--I forgot everything when I was near her. Oh, Heaven, Len, it's hard lines! What shall I do! If the poor old squire had but left me a few hundreds a year, how happy we could be!" "But he hasn't," said Leonard, gravely and gently. "And what are you going to do? There's the money you lost last night----" Jack groaned. "What an idiot I was. Len, I swear to you that I was nearly driven out of my mind last night. First there was Lady Bell--she was more than civil, and bearing in mind all you said and wanted me to do, I made myself agreeable, and--and--she's very beautiful, Len, and when she looks right into your eyes and smiles, she seems to do what she likes with you. Len, I was nearly gone when that vision--as I thought it--came into the glass amongst the ferns. I thought it was a vision--I know now that she was there--and it drove me silly. I bolted out and made for the club, and played to forget it all." "And made bad matters worse," said Leonard. "You're in a hole, Jack, I'm afraid. Moss won't wait; there are other bills, and there's the I. O. U. of last night, and you've lost the money you had, and you've asked this young girl to love you. You mean to marry her--I say, you mean to marry her. On what? How can you go to her father--who already doesn't seem altogether prepossessed in your favor--and ask him to give his daughter to a penniless gentleman? Mind--a gentleman! If you were a woodman like himself, your being hard up wouldn't matter. You could take an ax, or whatever they use, and earn your living. But you can't go and ask him to let her share your over-due bills and I. O. U.'s." Jack groaned. "What shall I do, Len? My darling, my darling!" Leonard sighed. His heart--the heart of as true a friend as ever the world held--ached for the wild, thoughtless youth. "Was Lady Bell there?" he asked, quietly. Jack leaped to his feet. "Lady Bell! I see what you mean!" he groaned. "Len, you are in love yourself, and yet you ask me to sell myself----" Leonard flushed. "Jack, much as I care for you, I swear that I am thinking as much of her good and happiness as of your own. If you marry her--which, after all, you _cannot_--if you could you would make her life miserable; if you marry Lady Bell, you will at least make _her_--happy." Jack paced up and down for a moment. Then he turned, white and haggard, and held out his hand: "You are right. Would to Heaven you were not! I see it, I cannot help it. I will not make her life miserable. But--but--I must go and tell her. Heaven help us both!" CHAPTER XXV. Where ignorance is bliss 'tis folly to be wise. Quite ignorant and unconscious of all that was going on in London, Stephen remained down at the Hurst.