isest thing----'

'Not you!'

'But consider the plight of that poor girl.'

'Oh, come! This opens new ground. I thought I was engaged to advise
you.'

'Certainly. But in relation to--to what we've been talking about.'

'H'm! In relation, you mean, to Fanny Pelly? Phoebus, what a name! I
wonder if you know what you mean, Freydon! Let's assume you mean
having equal regard to your own interests and those of your gin-drinking
landlady's daughter. Hey?'

'Well, yes. Always remembering, of course, that I am only a man, and
she----'

'Oh, Lord! Excuse me. Yes; you are only a man, as you so truly say;
and she is--your landlady's daughter. Well, well, upon the whole, and
giving her interests a fair show, I think my advice would be precisely
the same--clear out to-morrow.'

'And what about her future?'

'My dear man, am I a reasoning human being, or a novelette-reading
jelly-fish? Did I not say that having regard to the interests of both,
that is my advice? Kindly credit me with the modicum of intelligence
required for adequate consideration of both sides. It isn't an
international complication, you know; neither is it a situation
entirely without precedent in history. But, mind you, I'm perfectly
well aware that no advice, however good, is ever of any practical use;
least of all in circumstances of this order. It does, I believe,
occasionally impel its victim in the direction opposite to the one
indicated. Yes, and especially in such cases. Well, my friend, upon
reconsideration then, my advice is that first thing to-morrow morning
you proceed to Doctors' Commons, wherever and whatever that may be,
procure a special licence, and many the girl. Only--don't you dare to
ask me to have anything to do with it.'

The suggestion has a fantastic look, but I am more than half inclined
to think Heron's final piece of advice did have its bearing upon my
subsequent actions. For it started a train of thought in my mind
regarding marriage. It gave a practical shape to mere vague
imaginings. It set me looking into details. For example, I distinctly
remember murmuring to myself as I turned the corner of Heron's street:

'Yes, after all, I suppose getting married is quite a simple job,
really. There are registrar's offices, aren't there? I suppose it's
pretty well as simple, really, as getting a new coat.'

How Heron would have grinned if he had been able to follow this
soliloquy!

Fanny was on her knees before my hearth when I