He could not confide to Ferrers what had passed between him and Valerie.

Lumley was too _hard_ for a confidant in matters where the heart was at all concerned.

In fact, in high spirits, and in the midst of frivolous adventures, Ferrers was charming.

But in sadness, or in the moments of deep feeling, Ferrers was one whom you would wish out of the way.
"You are sullen to-eight, _mon cher_," said Lumley, yawning; "I suppose you want to go to bed--some persons are so ill-bred, so selfish, they never think of their friends.

Nobody asks me what I won at _ecarte_.
Don't be late to-morrow--I hate breakfasting alone, and I am never later than a quarter before nine--I hate egotistical, ill-mannered people.
Good night." With this, Ferrers sought his own room; there, as he slowly undressed, he thus soliloquised: "I think I have put this man to all the use I can make of him.