s to you.
You cannot imagine how grateful I feel to you, and what a weight you
have taken off my mind."

"I am glad to hear it," said Browne; and then, shaking him by the hand,
he crossed the road and made his way down St. James's Street.
"Confound it all!" he said to himself, as he walked along, "this is
just the sort of scrape my absurd mania for issuing invitations gets me
into. I like Maas well enough as an acquaintance, but I don't know
that he is altogether the sort of fellow I should have chosen to
accompany me on an expedition like this. However, what's done cannot
be undone; and it is just possible, as his health is giving way, that
he will decide to leave us in Japan; then we shall be all right. If he
doesn't, and elects to go on with us--well, I suppose we must make the
best of it."

As he came to this philosophical conclusion, he turned the corner from
St. James's Street into Pall Mall, and ran into the arms of the very
man for whom he was in search. Foote was evidently in as great a hurry
as himself, and, such was the violence of the shock, that it was a
wonderful thing that they did not both fall to the ground.

"Hang it, man, why don't you look where you're going?" Foote cried
angrily, as he put his hand to his head to hold on his hat. As he did
so he recognised Browne.

"Hullo, old chap, it's you, is it?" he cried. "By Jove! do you know
you nearly knocked me down?"

"It's your own fault," Browne answered snappishly. "What do you mean
by charging round the corner like that? You might have known what
would happen."

They stood and looked at one another for a moment, and then Foote burst
out laughing. "My dear old fellow," he said, "what on earth's wrong
with you? You don't seem to be yourself this morning."

"I'm not," said Browne. "Nothing seems to go right with me, do what I
will. I tell you, Jimmy, I'm the biggest ass that walks the earth."

Jimmy whistled softly to himself. "This is plainly a case which
demands the most careful treatment," he said aloud. "From what I can
see of it, it will be necessary for me to prescribe for him. My
treatment will be a good luncheon and a pint of the Widow to wash it
down. Come along." So saying, he slipped his arm through that of his
companion, and led him back in the direction of the Monolith Club.
"Now, Master Browne," he said, as they walked along, "you will just
tell me everything,--hiding nothing, remember, and setting down naught
in