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"
And she hurried from the room, leaving the two young men together.
Errington threw himself into Olaf Gueldmar's great arm-chair, with a
slight sigh.
"Well?" said Lorimer inquiringly.
"Well!" he returned somewhat gruffly.
Lorimer laughed, and crossing the room, approached him and clapped a
hand on his shoulder.
"Look here, old man!" he said earnestly, "don't be a fool! I know that
'love maketh men mad,' but I never supposed the lunacy would lead you to
the undesirable point of distrusting your friend,--your true friend,
Phil,--by all the Gods of the past and present!"
And he laughed again,--a little huskily this time, for there was a
sudden unaccountable and unwished-for lump in his throat, and a moisture
in his eyes which he had not bargained for. Philip looked up,--and
silently held out his hand, which Lorimer as silently clasped. There was
a moment's hesitation, and then the young baronet spoke out manfully.
"I'm ashamed of myself, George! I really am! But I tell you, when I came
in and saw you two standing there,--you've no idea what a picture you
made! .


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