e generally sought out his one friend, who
was a few degrees less shy than himself, and they took a monosyllabic
walk together; or if it was wet, he read the papers at the Union, and
in the evening after hall he studied "general literature" (a graceful
term for novels) or laboriously spelt out a sonata upon his piano--a
habit which did not increase his popularity.

Fortunately for Flushington, he had no gyp, or his life might have been
made a positive burden to him, and with his bedmaker he was rather a
favorite as "a gentleman what gave no trouble"--meaning that, when he
observed his sherry unaccountably sinking, like the water in a lock
when the sluices are up, Flushington was too delicate to refer to the
phenomenon.

He was sitting one afternoon over his modest lunch of bread and butter,
potted meat and lemonade, when all at once he heard a sound of unusual
voices and a strange flutter of dresses coming up the winding stone
staircase outside, and was instantly seized with a cold dread.

There was no particular reason for being alarmed, although there were
certainly ladies mounting the steps. Probably they were friends of the
man opposite, who was always having his people up; but still
Flushington had that odd presentiment which nervous people have
sometimes that something unpleasant is on its way to them, and he half
rose from his chair to shut his outer oak.

It was too late; the dresses were rustling now in his very passage;
there was a pause, a few faint, smothered laughs and little feminine
coughs--then two taps at the door.

"Come in," cried Flushington, faintly; he wished he had been reading
anything but the work by M. Zola, which was propped up in front of him.
It is your mild man, who frequently has a taste for seeing the less
reputable side of life in this second-hand way, and Flushington would
toil manfully through the voluminous pages, hunting up every third word
in the dictionary; with a sense of injury when, as was often the case,
it was not to be found. Still, there was a sort of intellectual orgie
about it which had strong fascinations for him, while he knew enough of
the language to be aware when the incidents approached the improper,
though he was not always able to see quite clearly in what this
impropriety consisted.

The door opened, and his heart seemed to stop, and all the blood rushed
violently to his head as a large lady came sweeping in, her face
rippling with a broad smile of affect