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After years of self-repression, of a cynicism partly artificial, partly inevitable, the natural man had broken out once more, stung into life by time smooth platitudes of the great churchman against whom his attack was directed. He was reckless of time fact that Lady Caroom, Brooks, and many of his acquaintances were in the Strangers' Gallery.
Ascough, there was something which he found more inexplicable even than Lord Arranmore's transference of the care of his estates to him, and that was the apparent encouragement which both he and Lady Caroom gave to the friendship between Sybil and himself.
"I do not know," he answered, vaguely. "I have never asked myself. I do not wish to ask myself. Why do you speak of her? She is not of our world, the world to which I want to belong. I want to forget her." "You are a little mad to-night, my friend," Mary said. "To-morrow you will feel differently. If Sybil Caroom cares for you, what does it matter which world she belongs to?
The little party broke up soon afterwards, but Lady Caroom touched Brooks upon his shoulder. "Come into my room for a few minutes," she said. "I want to talk with you." "Do you know," Lady Caroom said, motioning Brooks to a seat by her side, "that I feel very middle-class and elderly and interfering. For I am going to talk to you about Sybil." Brooks was a little paler than usual.
Sometimes when I see him, like a Banquo at a feast, with his eyes full of weariness and the mummy's smile upon his lips, I feel that I can keep away no longer. Kingston, let us go to him, you and I. Let us see if we can't tear off the mask." He shook his head. "He would laugh at us!" "Will you try?" He hesitated. "No! But, Lady Caroom, you have no such debt of bitterness against him as I have.
"My father was a police-court missionary, and my mother the matron of a pauper hospital." "They are both dead, are they not?" she asked, softly. "Many years ago," he answered. Lady Caroom and Lord Arranmore came in together. A certain unusual seriousness in Sybil's face was manifest. "You two do not seem to have been amusing yourselves," Lady Caroom remarked, giving her hand to Brooks. "Mr.
I took care to explain that I sent it without the slightest sympathy in the cause merely out of compliment to an acquaintance. It was just a whim, nothing more, I can assure you. I think that I won it at Sandown or something." "It was not because you were interested in this work, then?" Lady Caroom asked, fearfully. "Not in the slightest," he answered. "That is to say, sympathetically interested.
"I know nothing about Lady Caroom," Brooks replied, without any overplus of graciousness. Selina looked at him in some dismay. "But you met her at Enton, didn't you?" she asked. "Oh, yes, I met her there," Brooks answered, impatiently. "But I certainly don't know enough of her to discuss her with Mrs. Huntingdon. I rather wanted to speak to your cousin."
"And the next day," he declared, in an aggrieved tone, "I heard that you were engaged to Caroom. You treated me shamefully." "These reminiscences," she declared, "are really sweet, but you are most ungrateful. I was really almost too kind to you.
"You must give up thinking about her, of course," Lady Caroom said, "until " Until what? "Until you can ask her if ever you do ask her to marry you in your proper name." Brooks set his teeth and walked up and down the little room. "That," he said, "may be never." "Exactly," Lady Caroom agreed. "That is why I am suggesting that you do not see her so often." He stopped opposite her.
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