t shillings a week.

Nor had it made me either better or happier I made a few more good
resolutions after the party to be a fool no longer. I could see plainly
enough that all my so-called friends had been amusing themselves at my
expense, and were certainly not worth my running myself head over ears
in debt to retain. I could see too, when I came to reflect, that all my
efforts to pass myself off as "one of them" had ended pitifully for me,
if not ridiculously. Yes, it was time I gave it up. Alas! for the
vanity of youth! The very day that witnessed the forming of my
resolutions witnessed also the breaking of them.

"Hullo, young 'un!" cried Doubleday, as I put in my appearance at the
office; "here you are! How are you after it all?"

"I'm quite well," said I, in what I intended to be a chilly voice.

"That's right. Very brickish of you to have us up. We all thought so,
didn't we, Crow?"

"Rather," replied Crow.

"I'm afraid some of the fellows were rather rude," continued Doubleday.
"Those Twins are awfully underbred beggars. I believe, you know, their
mother never knew which of the two it was that wanted whopping, and so
she let them both grow up anyhow. If I'd been her, I'd have licked them
both regularly, wouldn't you, Crow?"

Without setting much store by Doubleday's moral disquisition on the duty
of the parents of Twins, I felt mollified by the half apology implied in
his reference to yesterday's entertainment, and to the manner of his
behaviour towards me now. It was clear he felt rather ashamed of
himself and his cronies for their behaviour. Who could tell whether, if
they had given me a fair chance, my supper might not have been a success
after all? At any rate, I didn't feel quite so downhearted about it as
I had done.

"How's that festive old lady," proceeded Doubleday, "this morning? I
pity you with an old dragon like her to look after you. That's the
worst of those boarding-houses. A fellow can't do the civil to his
friends but he's sure to be interfered with by somebody or other."

He was actually making excuses for me!

Yes; if it hadn't been for the rudeness of some of the fellows and the
aggravating behaviour of Mrs Nash, my supper would have gone off quite
well. I was quite thankful to Doubleday for the comfort he gave me, and
cheerfully accepted an invitation to go up to his lodgings "to meet just
the usual lot" next evening.

Which I did, and found the "usual lot" in th