"I was a lodger here once, and played the part of Grand Bashaw with twopence-ha'penny in my pocket. When my twopence-ha'penny was spent, I fled."
"An honourable retreat, I'll swear," remarked Charley. Felix twirled his cigar, and puffed out royally.
"And now, old fellow, I must know all about you."
Felix told his friend all; of his quarrel with his father, softening that part of the story, and taking much blame to himself; of his quitting his home for ever and ever, never more to return, with his twopence-ha'penny in his purse; of his coming to London to conquer the world; of his failure; of his funds running out; and of his taking to the arts for a living. Only casually did he mention Lily, but his heart was so full of tenderness for her, that the few words he uttered respecting her were rightly interpreted by his friend.
"Felix, you are in love."
Felix puffed away in silence, and looked into the fire.
"Come, old fellow," continued Charley, "we used to have no secrets; we shared and shared, you remember."
"Well, Charley," replied Felix, "I have kept no secret from you. You know this one, at all events, and you know it from me. But don't let us talk about it; the odds are that it will come to nothing."
"One word only--rich?"
"Poor as I am."