"No," said the other, dropping into a chair; "only tired--and worried, perhaps. Waters, get me a biscuit and a glass of sherry. Now, when I think of it, I ought to feel tired--I have eaten nothing since eight o'clock this morning." Lord Evelyn jumped to his feet. "Come off at once, Brand. We will go up to the Strand and get you something to eat. Gracious goodness, it is nearly ten o'clock!" "No, no, never mind. I have something to talk to you about, Evelyn." "But why on earth had Waters no dinner waiting for you?" "I did not tell him--I forgot. Never mind; I will have some supper by-and-by. I called on you, Evelyn, about half an hour ago; I might have known you would be here." Lord Evelyn paused for a second or two, while Waters came in and went out again. Then he said, "I can tell by your face, Brand, that something has happened." "Nothing that I had not foreseen." "Did you consent or refuse?" "I refused." "Well?" "Then, as I knew he would, he suggested that I might as well get ready to start for America as soon as possible." Brand was speaking in a light and scornful way; but his face was careworn, and his eyes kept turning to the windows and the dark night outside, as if they were looking at something far away. "About Natalie?" Lord Evelyn asked. "Oh, he was frank enough. He dropped all those roundabout phrases about the great honor, and so forth. He was quite plain. 'Not to be thought of.'" Lord Evelyn remained silent for some time. "I am very sorry, Brand," he said at length; and then he continued with some hesitation--"Do you know--I have been thinking that--that though it's a very extreme thing for a man to give up his fortune--a very extreme thing--I can quite understand how the proposal looked to you very monstrous at first--still, if you put that in the balance as against a man's giving up his native country and the woman whom he is in love with--don't you see--the happiness of people of so much more importance than a sum of money, however large--" "My dear fellow," said Brand, interrupting him, "there is no such alternative--there never was any such alternative. Do you not think I would rather give up twenty fortunes than have to go and bid good-bye to Natalie? It is not a question of money. I suspected before--I know now--that Lind never meant to let his daughter marry. He would not definitely say no to me while he thought I could be persuaded about this money business; as soon as I refused that, he was frank and explicit enough. I see the whole thing clearly enough now. Well, he has not altogether succeeded." His eye happened to light on the ring on his finger, and the frown on his face lifted somewhat.