And as the winter came on he felt that he was closely watched by the noble family of de Courcy.  Some of that noble family he had already learned to hate cordially.  The Honourable John came up to town in November, and persecuted him vilely;—­insisted on having dinners given to him at Sebright’s, of smoking throughout the whole afternoon in his future brother-in-law’s rooms, and on borrowing his future brother-in-law’s possessions; till at last Crosbie determined that it would be wise to quarrel with the Honourable John,—­and he quarrelled with him accordingly, turning him out of his rooms, and telling him in so many words that he would have no more to do with him.

“You’ll have to do it, as I did,” Mortimer Gazebee had said to him; “I didn’t like it because of the family, but Lady Amelia told me that it must be so.”  Whereupon Crosbie took the advice of Mortimer Gazebee.

But the hospitality of the Gazebees was perhaps more distressing to him than even the importunities of the Honourable John.  It seemed as though his future sister-in-law was determined not to leave him alone.  Mortimer was sent to fetch him up for the Sunday afternoons, and he found that he was constrained to go to the villa in St. John’s Wood, even in opposition to his own most strenuous will.  He could not quite analyse the circumstances of his own position, but he felt as though he were a cock with his spurs cut off,—­as a dog with his teeth drawn.  He found himself becoming humble and meek.  He had to acknowledge to himself that he was afraid of Lady Amelia, and almost even afraid of Mortimer Gazebee.  He was aware that they watched him, and knew all his goings out and comings in.  They called him Adolphus, and made him tame.  That coming evil day in February was dinned into his ears.  Lady Amelia would go and look at furniture for him, and talked by the hour about bedding and sheets.  “You had better get your kitchen things at Tomkins’.  They’re all good, and he’ll give you ten per cent. off if you pay him ready money,—­which, of course, you will, you know!” Was it for this that he had sacrificed Lily Dale?—­for this that he had allied himself with the noble house of de Courcy?

Mortimer had been at him about the settlements from the very first moment of his return to London, and had already bound him up hand and foot.  His life was insured, and the policy was in Mortimer’s hands.  His own little bit of money had been already handed over to be tied up with Lady Alexandrina’s little bit.  It seemed to him that in all the arrangements made the intention was that he should die off speedily, and that Lady Alexandrina should be provided with a decent little income, sufficient for St. John’s Wood.  Things were to be so settled that he could not even spend the proceeds of his own money, or of hers.  They were to go, under the fostering hands of Mortimer Gazebee, in paying insurances.  If he would only die the day after his marriage, there would really be a very nice sum