"
The young lady applauded the receipt, but she sighed a little, and
probably relinquished all hope of concocting a novel herself; on the
whole, it seemed to involve incessant taking of trouble.
About this time I remember, too, another little scene, which I
enjoyed amazingly. I laugh now when I think of it. I happened to
be at a huge evening crush, and rather to my surprise, came across
Lawrence Vaughan. We were talking together, when up came Connington
of the Foreign Office. "I say, Vaughan," he said, "Lord Remington
wishes to be introduced to you." I watched the old statesman a
little curiously as he greeted Lawrence, and listened to his first
words: "Very glad to make your acquaintance, Captain Vaughan; I
understand that the author of that grand novel, 'At Strife,' is a
brother of yours." And poor Lawrence spent a mauvais quart d'heure,
inwardly fuming, I know, at the idea that he, the hero of Saspataras
Hill, should be considered merely as 'the brother of Vaughan, the
novelist.'
Fate, or perhaps I should say the effect of his own pernicious
actions, did not deal kindly just now with Lawrence.
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