"I have tried to
explain. I--I was as ready to fight as you could be; but--but now I obey
the person who has the best right to say what shall be done in such an
affair. I have made every apology and explanation I could; and I ask
your pardon."
"Oh, very well," Lionel said again.
"Will you give me your hand, then?" Mr. Percival Miles asked; and he
somewhat timidly advanced a step, with outstretched palm.
"That isn't necessary," said Lionel, making no other response.
The fair-haired young warrior seemed greatly embarrassed.
"I--I was told--" he stammered; but Lionel, who was now inclined to
laugh, broke in on his confusion.
"Did Miss Burgoyne say you weren't to come away without shaking hands
with me--is that it?" he asked, with a smile.
"Y--yes," answered the young gentleman, blushing furiously.
"Oh, very well, there's no trouble about that," Lionel said, and he
gave him his hand for a second; after which the love-lorn youth somewhat
hastily withdrew, and no doubt was glad to lose himself in the busy
crowd of Piccadilly.
That same afternoon Lionel drove down to Sloane Street. He was always
glad to go along and have a friendly little chat about musical affairs
with the eagerly enthusiastic Nina; and, as this particular evening was
exceedingly fine and pleasant, he thought he might induce her to walk in
to the theatre by way of Belgrave Square and the Green Park.
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