ce sobered. But the next instant
he smiled again.

"Find the woman, Teddy!" he said lightly.

"I've found her," said Teddy unexpectedly.

"The deuce you have!" said Hone. "Sure, and it's truly grateful I am! Is
she young, my son, and lovely?"

"She is the loveliest woman I know," said Teddy Duncombe, with all
sincerity.

"Faith!" laughed the Irishman. "But that's heartfelt! Why don't you
enter for the prize yourself?"

"I'm going to marry little Lucy Fabian as soon as she will have me,"
explained Duncombe. "We settled that ages ago, almost as soon as she
came out. It's not a formal engagement even yet, but she has promised to
bear it in mind. We had a talk last night, and--I believe I haven't much
longer to wait."

"Good luck to you, dear fellow!" said Hone. "You deserve the best." He
laid his hand for a moment on Duncombe's shoulder. "It's been a good
partnership, Teddy boy," he said. "I shall miss you."

Teddy gripped the hand hard.

"You'll have to get married yourself, Pat," he declared urgently. "It
isn't good for man to live alone."

"And so you are going to provide for my future also," laughed Hone.
"And the lady's name?"

"Oh, she's an old friend!" said Duncombe. "Can't you guess?"

Hone shook his head.

"I can't imagine any old friend taking pity on me. Have you sounded her
feelings on the subject? Or perhaps she hasn't got any where I am
concerned."

"Oh, yes, she has her feelings about you!" said Duncombe, with
confidence. "But I don't know what they are. She wasn't particularly
communicative on that point."

"Or you, my son, were not particularly penetrating," suggested Hone.

"I certainly didn't penetrate far," Duncombe confessed. "It was a case
of 'No admission to outsiders.' Still, I kept my eyes open on your
behalf; and the conclusion I arrived at was that, though reticent where
you were concerned, she was by no means indifferent."

Hone stooped and picked up his dumb-bells once more.

"Your conclusions are not always very convincing, Teddy," he remarked.

Duncombe got to his feet in leisurely preparation for departure.

"There was no mistake as to her reticence anyhow," he observed. "It was
the more conspicuous, as all the rest of us were yelling ourselves
hoarse in your honour. I was watching her, and she never moved her
lips, never even smiled. But her eyes saw no one else but you."

Hone grunted a little. He was poising the dumb-bells at the full stretch
of his arms.

Du