, of course money is nothing! We write for honour and glory. Don't forget
to insist on that when you reprove Mr Whelpdale; no doubt it will impress him.«
    Late in the evening of that day, when the brother and sister had strolled by
moonlight up to the windmill which occupies the highest point of Sark, and as
they stood looking upon the pale expanse of sea, dotted with the gleam of
lighthouses near and far, Dora broke the silence to say quietly:
    »I may as well tell you that Mr Whelpdale wants to know if I will marry
him.«
    »The deuce he does!« cried Jasper, with a start. »If I didn't half suspect
something of that kind! What astounding impudence!«
    »You seriously think so?«
    »Well, don't you? You hardly know him, to begin with. And then - oh,
confound it!«
    »Very well, I'll tell him that his impudence astonishes me.«
    »You will?«
    »Certainly. Of course in civil terms. But don't let this make any difference
between you and him. Just pretend to know nothing about it; no harm is done.«
    »You are speaking in earnest?«
    »Quite. He has written in a very proper way, and there's no reason whatever
to disturb our friendliness with him. I have a right to give directions in a
matter like this, and you'll please to obey them.«
    Before going to bed Dora wrote a letter to Mr Whelpdale, not, indeed,
accepting his offer forthwith, but conveying to him with much gracefulness an
unmistakable encouragement to persevere. This was posted on the morrow, and its
writer continued to benefit most remarkably by the sun and breezes and
rock-scrambling of Sark.
    Soon after their return to London, Dora had the satisfaction of paying the
first visit to her sister at the Dolomores' house in Ovington Square. Maud was
established in the midst of luxuries, and talked with laughing scorn of the days
when she inhabited Grub Street; her literary tastes were henceforth to serve as
merely a note of distinction, an added grace which made evident her superiority
to the well attired and smooth-tongued people among whom she was content to
shine. On the one hand, she had contact with the world of fashionable
literature, on the other with that of fashionable ignorance. Mrs Lane's house
was a meeting-point of the two spheres.
    »I shan't be there very often,« remarked Jasper, as
