“I believe you know Miss Snow,” said Felix, rushing at once into the middle of all those delicate circumstances.
Albert Fitzallen drew himself up, and declared that he had that honour.
“I also know her,” said Felix. “My name is Felix Graham—”
“Oh, sir, very well,” said Albert. The street in which they were standing was desolate, and the young man was able to assume a look of decided hostility without encountering any other eyes than those of his rival. “If you have anything to say to me, sir, I am quite prepared to listen to you—to listen to you, and to answer you. I have heard your name mentioned by Miss Snow.” And Albert Fitzallen stood his ground as though he were at once going to cover himself with his pistol arm.
“Yes, I know you have. Mary has told me what has passed between you. You may regard me, Mr. Fitzallen, as Mary’s best and surest friend.”
“I know you have been a friend to her; I am aware of that. But, Mr. Graham, if you will allow me to say so, friendship is one thing, and the warm love of a devoted bosom is another.”
“Quite so,” said Felix.
“A woman’s heart is a treasure not to be bought by any efforts of friendship,” said Fitzallen.
“I fully agree with you there,” said Graham.
“Far be it from me to make any boast,” continued the other, “or even to hint that I have gained a place in that lady’s affections. I know my own position too well, and say proudly that I am existing only on hope.” Here, to show his pride, he hit himself with his closed fist on his shirtfront. “But, Mr. Graham, I am free to declare, even in your presence, though you may be her best and surest friend,”—and there was not wanting from the tone of his voice a strong flavour of scorn as he repeated these words—“that I do exist on hope, let your claims be what they will. If you desire to make such hope on my part a cause of quarrel, I have nothing to say against it.” And then he twirled all that he could twirl of that incipient moustache.
“By no means,” said Graham.
“Oh, very well,” said Fitzallen. “Then we understand that the arena of love is open to us both. I do not fail to appreciate the immense advantages which you enjoy in this struggle.” And then Fitzallen looked up into Graham’s ugly face, and thought of his own appearance in the looking-glass.
“What I want to know is this,” said Felix. “If you marry Mary Snow, what means have you of maintaining her? Would your mother receive her into her house? I presume you are not a partner in that shop; but would it be possible to get you in as a partner, supposing Mary were to marry you and had a little money as her fortune?”
“Eh!” said Albert, dropping his look of pride, allowing his hand to fall from his lips, and standing still before his companion with his mouth wide open.
“Of course you mean honestly by dear Mary.”
“Oh, sir, yes, on the honour of a gentleman. My intentions, sir, are—. Mr. Graham, I love that young lady with a devotion of heart, that—that—that—. Then you don’t mean to marry her yourself; eh, Mr. Graham?”
“No, Mr. Fitzallen, I do not. And now, if you will so far confide in me, we will talk over your prospects.”
“Oh, very well. I’m sure you are very kind. But Miss Snow did tell me—”
“Yes, I know she did, and she was quite right. But as you said just now, a woman’s heart cannot be bought by friendship. I have not been a bad friend to Mary, but I had no right to expect that I could win her love in that way. Whether or no you may be able to succeed, I will not say, but I have abandoned the pursuit.” In all which Graham intended to be exceedingly honest, but was, in truth, rather hypocritical.
“Then the course is open to me,” said Fitzallen.
“Yes, the course is open,” answered Graham.
“But the race has still to be run. Don’t you think that Miss Snow is of her nature very—very cold?”
Felix remembered the one kiss beneath the lamppost—the one kiss given, and received. He remembered also that Mary’s acquaintance with the gentleman must necessarily have been short; and he made no answer to this question. But he made a comparison. What would Madeline have said and done had he attempted such an iniquity? And he thought of her flashing eyes and terrible scorn, of the utter indignation of all the Staveley family, and of the wretched abyss into which the offender would have fallen.
He brought back the subject at once to the young man’s means, to his mother, and to the doctor’s shop; and though he learned nothing that was very promising, neither did he learn anything that was the reverse. Albert Fitzallen did not ride a very high horse when he learned that his supposed rival was so anxious to assist him. He was quite willing to be guided by Graham, and, in that matter of the proposed partnership, was sure that old Balsam, the owner of the business, would be glad to take a sum of money down. “He has a son of his own,” said Albert, “but he don’t take to it at all. He’s gone into wine and spirits; but he don’t sell half as much as he drinks.”
Felix then proposed that he should call on Mrs. Fitzallen, and to this Albert gave a blushing consent. “Mother has heard of it,” said Albert, “but I
