erstood, and they were
really bar-maids. Be this as it may, they maintained their
unalterable reserve; and with suppressed laughter, Mike persuaded
Dicky, who had resumed the ribbons, to turn into the lodge-gates.

"Who is this Johnny?" shouted Muchross. "If he won't stand a drink,
we don't want none of his blooming architecture."

"And I wouldn't touch a man with a large pole who didn't like women,"
said Laura. At which emphatic but naive expression of opinion, the
whole coach roared;--even the bar-girls smiled.

"Architecture! It is a regular putty castle," said Kitty, as they
turned out of an avenue of elms and came in view of the house.

Not a trace of the original Italian house remained. The loggia had
been replaced by a couple of Gothic towers. Over the central hall he
had placed a light lantern roof, and the billiard-room had been
converted into a chapel. A cold and corpse-like sky was flying; the
shadows falling filled the autumn path with sensations of deep
melancholy. But the painted legend of St. George overthrowing the
dragon, which John had placed in commemoration of his victories over
himself, in the central hall, glowed full of colour and story; and in
the melodious moan of the organ, and in the resonant chord which
closes the awful warning of the _Dies Irae_, he realized the soul of
his friend. Castle, window, and friend were now one in his brain, and
seized with dim, undefinable weariness of his companions, and an
irritating longing to see John, Mike said--

"I must go and see him."

"We can't wait here while you are paying visits; who doesn't like
getting drunk or singing, 'What cheer, Ria?' Let's give him a song."
Then the whole coach roared: even the bar-girls joined in.

"What cheer, Ria?
Ria's on the job;
What cheer, Ria?
Speculate a bob."

As soon as he could make himself heard, Mike said--

"You need not wait for me. We are only five minutes from Brighton.
I'll ride over in an hour's time. Do you wait for me at the Ship,
Kitty."

"I don't think this at all nice of you."

Mike waved his hand; and as he stood on the steps of this Gothic
mansion, listening to the chant, watching the revellers disappearing
in the gray and yellow gloom of the park, he said--

"The man here is the one who has seized what is best in life; he
alone has loved. I should have founded with him a new religious
order. I should walk with him at the head of the choir. Bah! life is
too pitifully s