mine. It seems to me I've got to find some jolly good friend
who'll see me through as delicate a bit of business as ever I heard of
in my life. That's why I telephoned to you."

"Very complimentary of you, I'm sure," said Jimmy. "But I think you
know you can rely on me. Come, out with it! What is the matter? Is
it a breach of promise case, or divorce, or what is it?"

"Look here, old man, before we go any farther," said Browne, with great
impressiveness, "I want to ask you not to joke on it. It may seem
humorous to other people, but I assure you it's life and death to me."

There was a little silence that might have lasted a minute; then Jimmy
took his friend's arm. "I'm sorry," said he; "only give me a decent
chance and I'm sure to make a fool of myself. I had no idea it was
such a serious matter with you. Now then, what is it? Tell me
everything from beginning to end."

"I will," said Browne. "But I ought to tell you first that I am not
supposed to say anything about it. The secret, while it is mine in a
sense, concerns another person more vitally. If I were the only one in
it I shouldn't care a bit; but I have to think of others before myself.
You may remember that one night--it seems as if it were years ago,
though in reality it is only a few weeks--you and I were walking down
Regent Street together. You told me you had seen a picture in a shop
window that you wanted to show me."

"I remember the incident perfectly," said Jimmy, but this time without
a smile. "It was a very foggy night, and you first kept me waiting
half an hour outside the shop, and then acted like a lunatic
afterwards."

"Well," said Browne, without replying to his friend's comments upon his
behaviour on that occasion, "you may remember that the night following
you dined with me at Lallemand's, and met two ladies."

"Madame Bernstein and Miss Petrovitch," said Jimmy. "I remember. What
next?"

Browne paused and looked a trifle sheepish before he replied, "Well,
look here, old man; that girl, Miss Petrovitch, is going to be my
wife." He looked nervously at Jimmy as if he expected an explosion.

"I could have told you that long ago," said Jimmy, with imperturbable
gravity. "And, by Jove! I'll go further and say that I don't think
you could do better. As far as I could tell, she seemed an awfully
nice girl, and I should think she would make you just the sort of wife
you want."

"Thank you," said Browne, more pleased