they met in London—it was during that dinner at the Savoy—that he was "stone broke," and would have to pass through the Bankruptcy Court shortly. A means of saving her friend occurred to her. Why should he not make up to Elizabeth? Could she do better than bestow herself and her twelve thousand a year on a man for whose person she had expressed such undisguised admiration? He was ruined, and he would find it difficult to pretend that he was in love with her. His tastes lay quite in another direction. But there was his recognized position in the world of fashion; his reputation for strength and courage, and his great personal attraction. With so many advantages, surely he might aspire to, the hand of a rather plain, obscure girl, with means to maintain him in all the luxury he had a right to expect?
The suggestion was at first coldly received by the individual it was meant to benefit. He told her he was not a marrying man; he would rather remain free and poor; the obligations of matrimony were distasteful to him. That was all very well, she replied; but how was he going to live? Here was a ready escape from his difficulties. If she could only bring this about (of course it needed his active and strenuous co-operation; there must be no half-measures with such a girl as Elizabeth), it would mean security for the remainder of his life. Her arguments prevailed. Naturally, the moral side of the question remained untouched by either. If she—the girl's aunt—had no scruples, no qualms of conscience, why should he be troubled with any? If the girl chose to marry him, well—it was her look-out. He should
