ered, for the place depressed me; and he
answered, with similar caution, that he couldn't. "I keep them lying
about," he said, confidentially; "but after I think nobody is likely
to call I put on an old pair of English ones." At this point the
housekeeper knocked at the door, and Scrymgeour sprang like an acrobat
into a Japanese dressing-gown before he cried "Come in!" As I left I
asked him how he felt now, and he said that he had never been so happy
in his life. But his hand was hot, and he did not look me in the face.

[Illustration]

Nearly a month elapsed before I looked in again. The unfortunate man had
now a Japanese rug over his legs to keep out the cold, and he was gazing
dejectedly at an outlandish mess which he called his lunch. He insisted
that it was not at all bad; but it had evidently been on the table some
time when I called, and he had not even tasted it. He ordered coffee for
my benefit, but I do not care for coffee that has salt in it instead of
sugar. I said that I had merely looked in to ask him to an early dinner
at the club, and it was touching to see how he grasped at the idea. So
complete, however, was his subjection to that terrible housekeeper, who
believed in his fad, that he dared not send back her dishes untasted.
As a compromise I suggested that he could wrap up some of the stuff
in paper and drop it quietly into the gutter. We sallied forth, and
I found him so weak that he had to be assisted into a hansom. He still
maintained, however, that Japanese chambers were worth making some
sacrifice for; and when the other Arcadians saw his condition they had
the delicacy not to contradict him. They thought it was consumption.

If we had not taken Scrymgeour in hand I dare not think what his craze
might have reduced him to. A friend asked him into the country for ten
days, and of course he was glad to go. As it happened, my chambers were
being repapered at the time, and Scrymgeour gave me permission to occupy
his rooms until his return. The other Arcadians agreed to meet me there
nightly, and they were indefatigable in their efforts to put the boudoir
to rights. Jimmy wrote letters to editors, of a most cutting nature, on
the moon, breaking the table as he stepped on and off it, and we gave
the butterflies to William John. The reptiles had to crawl off the door,
and we made pipe-lights of the Japanese fans. Marriot shot the candles
at the mice and birds; and Gilray, by improvising an entertainment