While Lesbia was losing herself in that dream-world, Lady Maulevrier unbent considerably to John Hammond, and talked to him with more appearance of interest in his actual self, and in his own affairs, than she had manifested, hitherto although she had been uniformly courteous. She asked him his plans for the future--had he chosen a profession? He told her that he had not. He meant to devote himself to literature and politics. 'Is not that rather vague?' inquired her ladyship. 'Everything is vague at first.' 'But literature now--as an amusement, no doubt, it is delightful--but as a profession--does literature ever pay?' 'There have been such cases.' 'Yes, I suppose so. Walter Scott, Gibbon, Macaulay, Froude, those made money no doubt. But there is a suspicion of hopelessness in the idea of a young man starting in life intending to earn his bread by literature. One remembers Chatterton. I should have thought that in your case the law or the church would have been better. In the latter Maulevrier might have been useful to you. He is patron of three or four livings.' 'You are too good even to think of such a thing,' said Hammond; 'but I have set my heart upon a political career. I must swim or sink in that sea.' Lady Maulevrier looked at him with a compassionate smile Poor young man! No doubt he thought himself a genius, and that doors which had remained shut to everybody else would turn on their hinges directly he knocked at them. She was sincerely sorry for him. Young, clever, enthusiastic, and doomed to bitterest disappointment. 'You have parents, perhaps, who are ambitious for you--a mother who thinks her son a heaven-born statesman!' said her ladyship, kindly. 'Alas, no! that incentive to ambition is wanting in my case. I have neither father nor mother living.' 'That is very sad. No doubt that fact has been a bond of sympathy between you and Maulevrier?' 'I believe it has.' 'Well, I hope Providence will smile upon your path.' 'Come what may, I shall never forget the happy weeks I have spent at Fellside,' said Hammond, 'or your ladyship's gracious hospitality.' He took up the beautiful hand, white to transparency, showing the delicate tracing of blue veins, and pressed his lips upon it in chivalrous worship of age and womanly dignity. Lady Maulevrier smiled upon him with her calm, grave smile. She would have liked to say, 'You shall be welcome again at Fellside,' but she felt that the man was dangerous. Not while Lesbia remained single could she court his company. If Maulevrier brought him she must tolerate his presence, but she would do nothing to invite that danger.