o you think, J. J.?"

"I've finished now; so we can go in to our dinner and eat it. It may
be, as you say, spoiled; but it can't be nearly so objectionable as
what poor Sir Gilbert Hawkesby is trying to eat at the present moment.
That ought to be some consolation to you."

"What's that you're saying about the judge's dinner?"

"Merely that it's in a much worse state than yours. A little too much
cooking is all you have to complain of. His dinner is soaked in
paraffin oil. But come along, Major; the thought of his sufferings
needn't prevent our satisfying our appetites."

"What have you been doing, J. J.? Tell me, like a good fellow. I'd
like to know the worst at once."

"Nothing would induce me," said Meldon, "to start another tirade while
you're hungry. It wouldn't be fair to you."

"I shan't be able to eat comfortably, J. J., with the thought of what
you may have been doing hanging over my head. I shall be imagining all
the time that it's something even worse than it really is. What have
you done to the judge?"

"A disquisition," said Meldon--"as well as I recollect disquisition was
the second word you used--on that subject would certainly last an hour,
and by that time your dinner would be almost, if not quite, in as bad a
state as the judge's. I'm going into the dining-room. You can stay
here if you like, but I advise you to come with me."

The Major rose with a sigh, and followed his guest into the
dining-room. The soup was nearly cold. So, when they appeared a
little later, were the potatoes and the spinach. The leg of mutton was
hot but badly burned. Meldon ate heartily. The Major laid down his
knife and fork with a sigh.

"You said you were hungry," said Meldon. "Why don't you eat?"

"My appetite is gone," said the Major. "I'm too nervous about you and
that judge to care about food. Besides, look at that"--he prodded a
piece of charred mutton with his fork as he spoke--"how can I eat that?"

"You'd like it even less if it tasted of paraffin oil. That's what the
judge is having to put up with. I daresay he'd be glad enough to
change places with you."

"Tell me what you did, J. J. You must have eaten enough of that mutton
now."

"I've had," said Meldon, leaning back in his chair, "a long and
exhausting day. It has also been a disappointing day. I haven't
accomplished all I hoped."

"You never do."

"On the contrary, I always do--in the end. My first plan for keeping
the