Sebastian had thrown himself into an easy-chair, and was lighting a cigar. ‘Beg his pardon--why?’ ‘My dear child, you wouldn’t say to your equal, “_You_ learn German--who teaches you?” and why should you say it to a cut-looker?’ ‘Well?’ said Hugo, seeing the expression upon Sebastian’s face, and knowing it to be no careless one. ‘I did beg his pardon, and he said, “Don’t mention it.” Then I asked him what he meant to do with himself while we were working half-time. He said he had no doubt he could manage to dispose of his own time, and I incautiously persisted, “But how?” He said he really had not thought much about it--might he ask why I wanted to know? So I had to beg his pardon again.’ Sebastian was puffing away, with raised eyebrows. Hugo burst out laughing. ‘I never heard of anything so preposterous. Why did you go on talking to him, if you got so vexed?’ ‘But I didn’t. I got interested. Why should the fellow dislike me so intensely? What can be his object?’ ‘Sebastian! I thought you did not care a straw what any one thought of you. You have said so often enough.’ ‘Well, and it was generally true--_generally_, mind you. I am interested against my will--personally interested. One thing I’ve found out--he hates me.’ ‘Nonsense!’ ‘Hold your froward tongue! You know how to play Beethoven’s Sonatas, and I know what I am talking about. He hates me, and I have made up my mind that he shall, so to speak, eat his words--that is, change his opinion. It will gave me endless trouble, I know,’ added Sebastian, knocking the ash from his cigar; ‘endless trouble, but I will do it. I must know whether that man is master, or I.’ ‘Oh, if it comes to that,’ said Hugo, shrugging his shoulders, and laughing a little; ‘if he has excited your obstinate combative instincts, you will never let the poor beggar alone till he at any rate _says_ that he gives in. Bless you, I know you!’ ‘He will never say he gives in unless he actually does so.’ ‘_Ja, ja!_’ said Hugo, nodding significantly, ‘I know. May you find the game worth the candle, is the sincere wish of one who succumbed long ago to your masterful disposition!’ ‘Thanks!’ laughed Sebastian. ‘And as I can’t begin this laudable campaign on the instant, I shall carry my investigations into another direction, that, namely of Stonegate. I am going to call upon Mr. Blisset.’ ‘At Stonegate--also with a view to conquest?’ inquired Hugo, politely, rising and walking quickly to the door, and closing it after him just in time for it, instead of his own person, to receive the large bundle of tape-tied ‘documents’ which Sebastian wrathfully sent flying after him. CHAPTER XVII. DISCORD. The scene once again the drawing-room of Mr. Blisset’s house; its occupants, Myles and Adrienne: he just arrived; she smiling to receive him, and he smiling in answer, as one might smile on suddenly finding a flower peeping up through the snow.