"Mavis Clare is a genius,"--Lady Sibyl said presently--"If Mr Tempest has not heard of her, there is no doubt he _will_ hear. I often regret that I never made her acquaintance in those old days at Willowsmere,--the stupidity of my nurse often rankles in my mind. 'Beneath me'--indeed!--and how very much she is above me now! She still lives down there,--her adopted parents are dead and she rents the lovely little house they inhabited. She has bought some extra land about it and improved the place wonderfully. Indeed I have never seen a more ideal poet's corner than Lily Cottage." I was silent, feeling somewhat in the background on account of my ignorance as to the gifts and the position of the individual they all seemed to recognize as a celebrity of importance. "Rather an odd name, Mavis, isn't it?"--I at last ventured to observe. "Yes,--but it suits her wonderfully. She sings quite as sweetly as any thrush, so she merits her designation." "What has she done in literature?" I continued. "Oh,--only a novel!" replied Lucio with a smile--"But it has a quality unusual to novels; it lives! I hope, Tempest, that your forthcoming work will enjoy the same vitality." Here Lord Elton who had been more or less brooding darkly over his glass of wine ever since I had mentioned my purchase of Willowsmere, roused himself from his reverie. "Why, God bless my soul!" he exclaimed--"You don't mean to tell me you have written a novel Mr Tempest?" (Was it possible he had never noticed all the prominent advertisements of my book in every paper, I thought indignantly!) "What do you want to do that for, with your immense position?" "He hankers after fame!" said Lucio half kindly, half satirically. "But you've got fame!" declared the Earl emphatically--"Everybody knows who you are by this time." "Ah, my dear lord, that is not enough for the aspirations of my gifted friend"--responded Lucio, speaking for me, his eyes darkening with that mystic shadow of mingled sorrow and scorn which so frequently clouded their lustrous brilliancy; "He does not particularly care for the 'immense position' that is due to wealth alone, because that does not lift him a jot higher than Maple of Tottenham Court Road. He seeks to soar beyond the furniture man,--and who shall blame him? He would be known for that indescribable quality called Genius,--for high thoughts, poetry, divine instincts, and prophetic probings into the heart of humanity,--in short, for the power of the Pen, which topples down great kingdoms like card-houses and sticks foolscaps on the heads of kings. Generally it is the moneyless man or woman who is endowed with this unpurchaseable power,--this independence of action and indifference to opinion,--the wealthy seldom do anything but spend or hoard. But Tempest means to unite for once in his own person the two most strenuously opposed forces in nature,--genius and cash,--or in other words, God and Mammon."