lack of
decision."

I would not advise any man to seek in a law court a sovereign remedy
for the wounds inflicted by the shafts of Cupid; but Frank tried it.
During his examination in chief his mien was gloomy and his answers
brief.

Then Mr. Aspinall rose and said: "I appear for the defendant, your
Honour, but from press of other engagements I have been unable to
give that attention to the legal aspects of this case which its
importance demands, and I have to request that your Honour will be
good enough to adjourn the court for a quarter of an hour."

The court was adjourned for half an hour, and Mr. Aspinall and his
solicitor retired to a room for a legal consultation. It began thus:

"I say, Lane, fetch me a nobbler of brandy; a stiffener, mind."

Lane fetched the stiffener in a soda-water bottle, and it cleared the
legal atmosphere.

When the court resumed business, Frank took his stand in the witness
box, and a voice said: "Now, Mr. Barlow, look at me."

Frank had been called many names in his time, but never "Mr. Barlow"
before now. He looked and saw the figure of a little man with a
large head, whose voice came through a full-grown nose like the blast
of a trumpet.

"You say you gave Cecily some money, a horse, saddle, and bridle?"

"I did."

"And you bought a wedding ring?"

"I've got it in my pocket."

"I see. Your Honour will be glad to hear that the ring, at any rate,
is not lost. It will be ready for another Cecily, won't it, Mr.
Barlow?"

Barlow, looking down on the floor of the court and shaking his head
slowly from side to side, said:

"No, it won't No fear. There 'ull be no more Cecilies for me."

There was laughter in the court, and when Frank raised his eyes, and
saw a broad grin on every face, he, too, burst into a fit of laughter.

I saw Mr. Aspinall and Dr. Macadam walking together arm-in-arm from
the court. The long doctor and the little lawyer were a strange
pair. Everybody knew that they were sliding down the easy slope to
their tragic end, but they seemed never to think of it.

Frank returned to Nyalong, happier than either. He related the
particulars of the trial to his friends with the utmost cheerfulness.
Whether he recovered all the worldly goods with which he had endowed
Cecily is doubtful, but he faithfully kept his promise that "There
'ull be no more Cecilies for me."

There was a demon of mischief at work on Philip's hill at both sides
of the dividing