he goes out
again, there's no hurry. Gilroy will wait, and I won't say any more
about it.'

'It--it seems a good opening,' said Mark hastily, not without shame at
himself; 'perhaps the sooner it is arranged the better, don't you
think?'

Caffyn laughed again. 'You old humbug!' he said. 'Why don't you tell
the truth? You've found out he's a defeated rival, and you don't care
about having him sitting sighing on the door-step of that little house
in--where is it?--on Campden Hill! Well, don't be alarmed; I think
he'll go, and I promise you I won't try to prevent him if he's keen on
it.'

He laughed aloud once or twice as he walked home. Mark's tender
solicitude for his friend's future tickled his sense of humour. 'And
the funniest thing about it is,' he thought, 'that I'm going to help
the humbug!'

Mark was up early the next morning, and hurried Holroyd over his
breakfast as much as he dared. He had a ghastly fear of missing the
train, in consequence of which they arrived at Euston at least half an
hour before the time of starting. Caffyn was not on the platform, and
Mark began to dread his being too late. 'And then,' he thought with a
shudder, 'I shall have him on my hands for another whole day. Another
day of this would drive me mad! And I _must_ see Mabel this morning.'
The luggage had been duly labelled, and there was nothing to do but to
wander up and down the platform, Mark feeling oppressed by a sinking
premonition of disaster whenever he loosed his hold of Holroyd's arm
for a moment. He was waiting while the latter bought a paper at the
bookstall, when suddenly he felt himself slapped heavily on the back
by some one behind him, and heard a voice at whose well-known accents
he very nearly fell down with horror. It was his terrible uncle!

''Ullo, you know, this won't do, young fellow; what's all this?' he
began, too evidently bursting with the badinage which every Benedick
must endure. 'Why, you ain't going for your honeymoon before the
wedding?--that's suspicious-lookin', that is!'

'No, no, it's all right,' said Mark, trembling; 'how do you do, uncle?
I--I'd rather you didn't talk about--about that here--not quite so
loud!'

'Well, I don't know what there is in that to be ashamed of,' said his
uncle; 'and if I mayn't be allowed to talk about a wedding--which but
for me, mind yer, would a' been long enough in coming about--p'raps
you'll tell me who is; and, as to talking loud, I'm not aware that I'm
an