k you up again, if he's in London?'

'No, I think he'll keep away. And I half hope he will; I shouldn't
quite know how to behave. Ten to one he's in London now. I suppose he
couldn't stay at Exeter. But he may have left England.'

They parted, and for a week did not see each other. Then, on Monday
evening, when Earwaker was very busy with a mass of manuscript, the
well-known knock sounded from the passage, and Malkin received
admission. The look he wore was appalling, a look such as only some
fearful catastrophe could warrant.

'Are you busy?' he asked, in a voice very unlike his own.

Earwaker could not doubt that the trouble was this time serious. He
abandoned his work, and gave himself wholly to his friend's service.

'An awful thing has happened,' Malkin began. 'How the deuce shall I
tell you? Oh, the ass I have made of myself! But I couldn't help it;
there seemed no way out of it.'

'Well? What?'

'It was last night, but I couldn't come to you till now. By Jove! I
veritably thought of sending you a note, and then killing myself. Early
this morning I was within an ace of suicide. Believe me, old friend.
This is no farce.'

'I'm waiting.'

'Yes, yes; but I can't tell you all at once. Sure you're not busy? I
know I pester you. I was down at Wrotham yesterday. I hadn't meant to
go, but the temptation was too strong. I got there at five o'clock, and
found that the girls were gone to have tea with some young friends.
Well, I wasn't altogether sorry; it was a good opportunity for a little
talk with their mother. And I _had_ the talk. But, oh, ass that I was!'

He smote the side of his head savagely.

'Can you guess, Earwaker? Can you give a shot at what happened?'

'Perhaps I might,' replied the other, gravely.

'Well?'

'That woman asked you to marry her.'

Malkin leapt from his chair, and sank back again.

'It came to that. Yes, upon my word, it came to that. She said she had
fallen in love with me--that was the long and short of it. And I had
never said a word that could suggest--Oh, confound it! What a frightful
scene it was!'

'You took a final leave of her?'

Malkin stared with eyes of anguish into his friend's face, and at
length whispered thickly:

'I said I would!'

'What? Take leave?'

'Marry her!'

Earwaker had much ado to check an impatiently remonstrant laugh. He
paused awhile, then began his expostulation, at first treating the
affair as too absurd for grave argument.

'My boy