offered to toss three lords, with whom he was
conversing, for drinks all round.

"Feeling awfully bad, dear boy; haven't been what I could call sober
since Monday. Would you mind holding my liquor for me? I must go and
speak to that chappie."

Since John Norton had come to live in London, his idea had been to
put his theory of life, which he had defined in his aphorism, "Let
the world be my monastery," into active practice. He did not
therefore refuse to accompany Mike Fletcher to restaurants and
music-halls, and was satisfied so long as he was allowed to
disassociate and isolate himself from the various women who clustered
about Mike. But this evening he viewed the courtesans with more
than the usual liberalism of mind, had even laughed loudly when one
fainted and was upheld by anxious friends, the most zealous and the
most intimate of whom bathed her white tragic face and listened in
alarm to her incoherent murmurings of "Mike darling, oh, Mike!" John
had uttered no word of protest until dear old Laura, who had never,
as Mike said, behaved badly to anybody, and had been loved by
everybody, sat down at their table, and the discussion turned on who
was likely to be Bessie's first sweetheart, Bessie being her youngest
sister whom she was "bringing out." Then he rose from the table and
wished Mike good-night; but Mike's liking for John was sincere, and
preferring his company to Laura's, he paid the bill and followed his
friend out of the restaurant; and as they walked home together he
listened to his grave and dignified admonitions, and though John
could not touch Mike's conscience, he always moved his sympathies. It
is the shallow and the insincere that inspire ridicule and contempt,
and even in the dissipations of the Temple, where he had come to
live, he had not failed to enforce respect for his convictions and
ideals.

In the Temple John had made many acquaintances and friends, and about
him were found the contributors to the _Pilgrim_, a weekly newspaper
devoted to young men, their doings, their amusements, their
literature, and their art. The editor and proprietor of this organ
of amusement was Escott. His editorial work was principally done in
his chambers in Temple Gardens, where he lived with his friend, Mike
Fletcher. Of necessity the newspaper drew, like gravitation, art
and literature, but the revelling lords who assembled there were
a disintegrating influence, and made John Norton a sort of second
centre