“This need not cost very heavily, and will serve to open the campaign. He will put me on 'the table,' as he calls it, and I shall be interrogated, and worried, and tormented--perhaps, too, insulted, at times; and I am to keep my temper, resent nothing--not even when they impugn my honor or my truthfulness--for that there are two grand principles of British law; one is, no man need say any ill of himself, nor is he ever to mind what ill another may say of him.” “Did he tell you that?” said Longworth, laughing. “Not exactly in these words, but it amounted to the same. Do give me a little wine; I am hoarse with talking.” “Not a drop. Tell me now, where are these letters, and that journal of your grandfather's that you showed me?” “Kelson has them all. Kelson has everything. When I believed the affair to be ended, I told him he might do what he pleased with them, if he only restored to me that colored sketch of my beautiful grandmother.” “There, there! don't get emotional, or I have done with you. I will write to Kelson to-day. Leave all to us and don't meddle in any way.” “That you may rely upon with confidence. No one ever yet accused me of occupying myself with anything I could possibly avoid. Do you want me any more?” “I don't think so; but why do you ask? Where are you going?” “I have a rendezvous this morning. I am to be three miles from this at one o'clock. I am to be at the tomb of Cecilia Metella, to meet the Lady Augusta Bramleigh, with a large party, on horseback, and we are to go somewhere and see something, and to dine, _ma foi_--I forget where.” “I think, all things considered,” said Longworth, gravely, “I would advise some reserve as to intimacy with that family.” “You distrust my discretion. You imagine that in my unguarded freedom of talking I shall say many things which had been better unsaid; is n't that so?” “Perhaps I do; at all events, I know the situation is one that would be intolerable to myself.” “Not to _me_ though, not to _me_. It is the very difficulty, the tension, so to say, that makes it enticing. I have I cannot tell you what enjoyment in a position where, by the slightest movement to this side or that, you lose your balance and fall. I like--I delight in the narrow path with the precipice at each hand, where a false step is destruction. The wish to live is never so strong as when life is in danger.” “You are a heart and soul gambler.” “Confess, however, I am _beau joueur_. I know how to lose.” And muttering something over the lateness of the hour, he snatched up his hat and hurried away. As Pracontal was hurrying to the place of meeting with all the speed of his horse, a servant met him with a note from Lady Augusta. “She did not feel well enough,” she said, “for a ride; she had a headache, and begged he would come and pay her a visit, and dine too, if he was not afraid of a dinner _en tête à tête_.”