_Lucy._ I thought I knew the name. _Agnes._ And you said you liked it; I was so pleased. _Lucy._ Yes, I did. I thought it clever and---- _Agnes._ He _is_ clever; and I do so want you to know him. He wants to know you, too. You will try to like him, won't you, for my sake? _Lucy._ I have no doubt I shall. _Agnes._ He is just bringing out a book. Some of the stories have been published before; the one you read was one, and if that proves a success then it will be all right; we shall be able to get married and---- _Lucy._ Wait a minute, Agnes. How long have you known him? _Agnes._ Over a year--nearly two years. _Lucy._ And do you really know him well? Are you quite certain you can trust him? _Agnes._ What a question! How can you doubt it? You wouldn't for a minute if you knew him. _Lucy._ I ought not to, knowing you, you mean. And supposing this book is a success. May it not spoil him--make him conceited? _Agnes._ All the better if it does. He is not conceited enough, and so I always tell him. _Lucy._ But may it not make him worldly? May he not, after a time, regret his proposal to you if he sees a chance of making a more advantageous---- _Agnes._ Impossible. What a dreadful opinion you must have of mankind. You don't think it really, I know. I have never heard you say or hint anything nasty about anybody before. _Lucy._ I only do it for your own good, my dear. I once knew a man--just such another as you describe Mr. Reddell to be. He was an author, too, and--and when I knew him his first book was also just about to appear. He was engaged to be married to--to quite a nice girl too, although she was never so pretty as you are. _Agnes._ Who is the flatterer now? _Lucy._ The book was published. It was a great success. He became quite the lion of the season--it is many years ago now. The wedding-day was definitely fixed. Two months before the date he suggested a postponement--for six months. _Agnes._ How horrible! _Lucy._ And just about the time originally fixed upon for the wedding she received a letter from him--he was abroad at the time--suggesting that their engagement had better be broken off. _Agnes._ Oh, the brute! the big brute! But she didn't consent, did she? _Lucy._ Of course. The man she had loved was dead. The new person she was indifferent to. _Agnes._ But how--but you don't suggest that Mr. Reddell could behave like that? he couldn't. He wouldn't, I feel certain. But there must surely have been something else; I can't believe that any man would behave so utterly unfeelingly--so brutally. They say there are always two sides to every story. Mayn't there have been some reason that you knew nothing about? Mayn't she have done something? She must have been a little bit to blame, too, and this side of the story you never heard. _Lucy._ Yes--it is possible. _Agnes._ I can't think that any man would deliberately behave so like a cad as you say he did.