“Never,” he answered; “but I do not flinch at what may be impossibilities.  Nobody, myself included, can imagine that I shall rival Keats, and yet I am always trying for it.”

“Is it Keats you are aiming at?” she said.

“Yes,” he replied; “it does not look like it, does it?  But it is.”

“And you don’t feel disheartened when you fail?” said she.

Mr. Locker took his hands from his pockets, and folded his arms.  “Yes, I do,” he said; “I feel as thoroughly disheartened as I do now.  But I have one comfort; Keats and Miss Asher dropped me; I did not drop them.  So there is nothing on my conscience.  And now tell me, is she going to take Lancaster?  I hope so.”

“She could not do that,” answered Mrs. Easterfield, “for I know he has not asked her.”

“Then he’d better skip around lively and do it,” said Mr. Locker, “not only for his own sake, but for mine.  If I should be cast aside for the Hemphill clothes I should have no faith in humanity.  I would give up verse, and I would give up woman.”

“Don’t be afraid of anything like that,” said Mrs. Easterfield, laughing.  “It may be somewhat of a breach of confidence, but I am going to tell you nevertheless; because I think you deserve it; that I am also deputed to decline the addresses of Mr. Hemphill, and Mr. Du Brant.”

“Hurrah!” cried Locker.  “Mrs. Easterfield, I envy you; and if you don’t feel like performing the rest of your mission, you can depute it to me.  I don’t know anything at this moment that would give me so much joy.”

“I would not be so disloyal or so cruel as that,” said she.  “But I shall not be in a hurry.  I shall let them eat their lunch in peace and hope.”

“Not much peace,” said he.  “Her empty chair will put that to flight.  I know how it feels to look at her empty chair.”

“Then you really love her?” said Mrs. Easterfield, much moved.

“With every fiber,” said he.

Mrs. Easterfield found herself much embarrassed at the luncheon table.  She had made her husband understand the state of affairs, but had not had time to enter into particulars with him, and she did not find it easy satisfactorily to explain to the company the absence of Miss Asher without calling forth embarrassing questions as to her return, and she wished carefully to avoid telling them that her guest was not coming back for the present.  If she made this known then she feared there might be a scene at the table.

Mr. Hemphill turned pale when, that afternoon, his hostess, in an exceedingly clear and plain manner, made known to him his fate.  For a few moments he did not speak.  Then he said very quietly:  “If she had not, of her own accord, told me that she had once loved me, I should never have dared to say anything like that to her.”

“I do not think you need any excuse, Mr. Hemphill,” said Mrs. Easterfield.  “In fact, if you loved her, I do not see how you could help speaking after what she herself said to you.”