low to enable him to understand
that the police court, and the prison, that Faddle and the orgies
at Bolivia's, that his challenge and the reply to it, were alike
dishonourable to him. Then had come a reaction, and he spent a
miserable fortnight down at Merle Park, doing nothing, resolving on
nothing, merely moping about and pouring the oft-repeated tale of his
woes into his mother's bosom. These days at Merle Park gave him back
at any rate his health, and rescued him from the intense wretchedness
of his condition on the day after the comparison of Bolivia's wines.
In this improved state he told himself that it behoved him even yet
to do something as a man, and he came suddenly to the bold resolution
of having,--as he called it to himself,--another "dash at Ayala."

How the "dash" was to be made he had not determined when he left
home. But to this he devoted the whole of the following Sunday. He
had received a lachrymose letter from his friend Faddle, at Aberdeen,
in which the unfortunate youth had told him that he was destined to
remain in that wretched northern city for the rest of his natural
life. He had not as yet been to the Mountaineers since his mishap
with the police, and did not care to show himself there at present.
He was therefore altogether alone, and, walking all alone the entire
round of the parks, he at last formed his resolution.

On the following morning when Mr. Dosett entered his room at Somerset
House, a little after half-past ten o'clock, he found his nephew
Tom there before him, and waiting for him. Mr. Dosett was somewhat
astonished, for he too had heard of Tom's misfortunes. Some
ill-natured chronicle of Tom's latter doings had spread itself among
the Tringle and Dosett sets, and Uncle Reginald was aware that his
nephew had been forced to relinquish his stool in Lombard Street. The
vices of the young are perhaps too often exaggerated, so that Mr.
Dosett had heard of an amount of champagne consumed and a number
of policemen wounded, of which his nephew had not been altogether
guilty. There was an idea at Kingsbury Crescent that Tom had gone
nearly mad, and was now kept under paternal care at Merle Park. When,
therefore, he saw Tom blooming in health, and brighter than usual in
general appearance, he was no doubt rejoiced, but also surprised, at
the change. "What, Tom!" he said; "I'm glad to see you looking so
well. Are you up in London again?"

"I'm in town for a day or two," said Tom.

"An