It was not in a spirit of idle curiosity that Sir Nugent Uffington induced May Forestfield to talk to him on the events of her past life, and to accustom herself to talk to him without the slightest reserve as to her hopes and fears. That he was deeply interested in her he had long since allowed to himself; but dreamer and idler as he had been throughout his life, he began to feel that all this interest was of no avail unless he could turn it to practical use. How that was to be done, how he could render any assistance to a woman in such a forlorn situation, he could not for a long time divine; and when after giving himself up to much solitude and the smoking of innumerable pipes, he at length hit upon what he considered was best to be done, he had to confess to himself with much shame that he had not yet discovered the way to do it. For the carrying out of his project it was not merely necessary that he should make Lord Forestfield's acquaintance, but that he should cultivate a certain amount of intimacy with that distinguished nobleman; and when Uffington had got over what seemed to him the superhuman task of forcing himself to consent to such an intimacy, he had still to encounter the practical difficulty of finding out where Lord Forestfield was. The only thing to be learned with any certainty about him was that he was not in London, having quitted town the day the decree _nisi_ was pronounced; but neither at his clubs nor from the columns of those courtly journals in which the movements of distinguished personages are usually announced could Uffington learn anything of his whereabouts. There was no reason why he himself should remain any longer in the solitude of London; the pleasure of seeing May Forestfield daily, which had been his principal attraction, no longer remained to him. In conformity with the confidence which had been established between them, Lady Forestfield had informed him of Gustave de Tournefort's unexpected visit, of the renewal of his proposals of marriage, and of the reply which she had given him. Uffington, who seemed considerably agitated when she commenced her recital, grew calm as she approached its conclusion, and told her that she had acted exactly as he would have advised her.