truck with me," said Mr. Stiles, slowly; "it's also
evident that if you tell her the truth it might spoil my chances. I
don't say it would, but it might. That being so, I'm agreeable to going
back without seeing her again by the six-forty train to-morrow morning if
it's made worth my while."

"Made worth your while?" repeated the other.

"Certainly," said the unblushing Mr. Stiles. "She's not a bad-looking
woman--for her age--and it's a snug little business."

Mr. Burton, suppressing his choler, affected to ponder. "If 'arf a
sovereign--" he said, at last.

"Half a fiddlestick!" said the other, impatiently. "I want ten pounds.
You've just drawn your pension, and, besides, you've been a saving man
all your life."

"Ten pounds?" gasped the other. "D'ye think I've got a gold-mine in the
back garden?"

Mr. Stiles leaned back in his chair and crossed his feet. "I don't go
for a penny less," he said, firmly. "Ten pounds and my ticket back. If
you call me any more o' those names I'll make it twelve."

"And what am I to explain to Mrs. Dutton?" demanded Mr. Burton, after a
quarter of an hour's altercation.

"Anything you like," said his generous friend. "Tell her I'm engaged to
my cousin, and our marriage keeps being put off and off on account of my
eccentric behaviour. And you can say that that was caused by a splinter
of a shell striking my head. Tell any lies you like; I shall never turn
up again to contradict them. If she tries to find out things about the
admiral, remind her that she promised to keep his visit here secret."

For over an hour Mr. Burton sat weighing the advantages and disadvantages
of this proposal, and then--Mr. Stiles refusing to seal the bargain
without--shook hands upon it and went off to bed in a state of mind
hovering between homicide and lunacy.

He was up in good time next morning, and, returning the shortest possible
answers to the remarks of Mr. Stiles, who was in excellent feather, went
with him to the railway station to be certain of his departure.

It was a delightful morning, cool and bright, and, despite his
misfortunes. Mr. Burton's spirits began to rise as he thought of his
approaching deliverance. Gloom again overtook him at the booking-office,
where the unconscionable Mr. Stiles insisted firmly upon a first-class
ticket.

"Who ever heard of an admiral riding third?" he demanded, indignantly.

"But they don't know you're an admiral," urged Mr. Burton, tryin