box from a cupboard.

'I don't mind.--Well--what was I saying? Oh yes; I was quarrelling with
you. Now, look here, what fault have you to find with Bella Jacox?'

'None whatever. She seemed to me a very amiable child.'

'Child! Pooh! pshaw! And fifteen next Sunday, I tell you. She's a young
lady, and to tell you the confounded plain truth, I'm in love with her.
I am, and there's nothing to be ashamed of. If you smile, we shall
quarrel. I warn you, Earwaker, we shall quarrel.'

The journalist, instead of smiling, gave forth his deepest laugh.
Malkin turned very red, scowled, and threw his cigar aside.

'You really wish me to go on Sunday?' Earwaker asked, in a pleasant
voice.

The other's countenance immediately cleared.

'I shall take it as a great kindness. Mrs. Jacox will be delighted.
Meet me at Holborn Viaduct at 1.25. No, to make sure I'll come here at
one o'clock.'

In a few minutes he was chatting as unconcernedly as ever.

'Talking of settling down, my brother Tom and his wife are on the point
of going to New Zealand. Necessity of business; may be out there for
the rest of their lives. Do you know that I shall think very seriously
of following them some day? With Bella, you know. The fact of the
matter is, I don't believe I could ever make a solid home in England.
Why, I can't quite say; partly, I suppose, because I have nothing to
do. Now there's a good deal to be said for going out to the colonies. A
man feels that he is helping the spread of civilisation; and that's
something, you know. I should compare myself with the Greek and Roman
colonists--something inspiriting in that thought--what? Why shouldn't I
found a respectable newspaper, for instance? Yes, I shall think very
seriously of this.'

'You wouldn't care to run over with your relatives, just to have a
look?'

'It occurred to me,' Malkin replied, thoughtfully. 'But they sail in
ten days, and--well, I'm afraid I couldn't get ready in time. And then
I've promised to look after some little affairs for Mrs. Jacox--some
trifling money matters. But later in the year--who knows?'

Earwaker half repented of his promise to visit the Jacox household, but
there was no possibility of excusing himself. So on Sunday he journeyed
with his friend down to Wrotham. Mrs. Jacox and her children were very
comfortably established in a small new house. When the companions
entered they found the mother alone in her sitting-room, and she
received them with an ef