‘What, is Nicholas dead?’ He saw the two of them exchange glances and an instinct of danger rose up. Their momentary absence seemed to have worked wonders; for now the most perfect understanding appeared to subsist between them. “Lord!” she said. Manning, in an earnest voice, and waved his hand to the alley of mauve and purple. The young man was mollified by her sympathy, and flattered by the obvious attempts of several of the other guests to draw him into conversation. “I do not lay claim,” he continued, “to any remarkable amount of insight, but it is possible, is it not, that I have stumbled upon your present cause of distress. The poet's appearance altogether was highly prepossessing. “My friend,” she said, “I have been your pupil for two years.
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