, before the old man could reply.
"Business."

"Must you go," said Mrs. Bradshaw.

Mr. Kemp smiled feebly. "I suppose I ought to," he replied, in a
hesitating voice.

"Take my tip and give yourself a bit of a holiday before you go back,"
urged Mr. Hills.

"Just for a few days," pleaded Bella.

"To please us," said Mrs. Bradshaw. "Think 'ow George'll miss you."

"Lay hold of him and don't let him go," said Mr. Hills.

He took Mr. Kemp round the waist, and the laughing Bella and her mother
each secured an arm. An appeal to Mr. Wright to secure his legs passed
unheeded.

"We don't let you go till you promise," said Mrs. Bradshaw.

Mr. Kemp smiled and shook his head. "Promise?" said Bella.

"Well, well," said Mr. Kemp; "p'r'aps--"

"He must go back," shouted the alarmed Mr. Wright.

"Let him speak for himself," exclaimed Bella, indignantly.

"Just another week then," said Mr. Kemp. "It's no good having money if I
can't please myself."

"A week!" shouted Mr. Wright, almost beside himself with rage and dismay.
"A week! Another week! Why, you told me----"

"Oh, don't listen to him," said Mrs. Bradshaw. "Croaker! It's his own
business, ain't it? And he knows best, don't he? What's it got to do
with you?"

She patted Mr. Kemp's hand; Mr. Kemp patted back, and with his disengaged
hand helped himself to a glass of beer--the fourth--and beamed in a
friendly fashion upon the company.

"George!" he said, suddenly.

"Yes," said Mr. Wright, in a harsh voice.

"Did you think to bring my pocket-book along with you?"

"No," said Mr. Wright, sharply; "I didn't."

"Tt-tt," said the old man, with a gesture of annoyance. "Well, lend me a
couple of pounds, then, or else run back and fetch my pocket-book," he
added, with a sly grin.

Mr. Wright's face worked with impotent fury. "What--what--do you--want
it for?" he gasped.

Mrs. Bradshaw's "Well! Well!" seemed to sum up the general feeling; Mr.
Kemp, shaking his head, eyed him with gentle reproach.

"Me and Mrs. Bradshaw are going to gave another evening out," he said,
quietly. "I've only got a few more days, and I must make hay while the
sun shines."

To Mr. Wright the room seemed to revolve slowly on its axis, but,
regaining his self-possession by a supreme effort, he took out his purse
and produced the amount. Mrs. Bradshaw, after a few feminine
protestations, went upstairs to put her bonnet on.

"And you can go and fetch a hansom-cab, Ge