say! Droll as ever,
eh?"

"Five years less droll than when we first met," said the late Bunker and
present Essington. "You meet a dullish dog, Baron--a sobered reveller."

"Ach, no! Not surely? Do not disappoint me, dear Bonker!"

The Baron's plaintive note seemed to amuse his friend.

"You don't mean to say you actually wish a boon companion? You, Baron,
the modern Talleyrand, the repository of three emperors' secrets? My
dear fellow, I nearly came in deep mourning."

"Mourning! For vat?"

"For our lamented past: I supposed you would have the air of a
Nonconformist beadle."

"My friend!" said the Baron eagerly, and yet with a lowering of his
voice, "I vould not like to engage a beadle mit jost ze same feelings
as me. Come here to zis corner and let us talk! Vaiter!
whisky--soda--cigars--all for two. Come, Bonker!"

Stretched in arm-chairs, in a quiet corner of the room, the two surveyed
one another with affectionate and humorous interest. For three years
they had not seen one another at all, and save once they had not met
for five. In five years a man may change his religion or lose his hair,
inherit a principality or part with a reputation, grow a beard or
turn teetotaler. Nothing so fundamental had happened to either of our
friends. The Baron's fullness of contour we have already noticed; in
Mandell-Essington, EX Bunker, was to be seen even less evidence of
the march of time. But years, like wheels upon a road, can hardly pass
without leaving in their wake some faint impress, however fair the
weather, and perhaps his hair lay a fraction of an inch higher up the
temple, and in the corners of his eyes a hint might even be discerned of
those little wrinkles that register the smiles and frowns. Otherwise
he was the same distinguished-looking, immaculately dressed, supremely
self-possessed, and charming Francis Bunker, whom the Baron's memory
stored among its choicer possessions.

"Tell me," demanded the Baron, "vat you are doing mit yourself, mine
Bonker."

"Doing?" said Essington, lighting his cigar. "Well, my dear Baron, I am
endeavoring to live as I imagine a gentleman should."

"And how is zat?"

"Riding a little, shooting a little, and occasionally telling the truth.
At other times I cock a wise eye at my modest patrimony, now and then I
deliver a lecture with magic-lantern slides; and when I come up to town
I sometimes watch cricket-matches. A devilish invigorating programme,
isn't it?"

"Ha, ha!"