it was any other man I'd throw him over in short order. But I feel
sorry for Hillars, and I am going to give him another chance. I want
you to go over and take care of him if possible. The London work is
not new to you. You can handle that and Hillars too. If you can keep
him in check----"

I shuddered. The word "check" jarred on my nerves.

"What's the matter?" asked the editor.

"A temporary chill," I said. "Go on."

"Well, if you can manage to keep him in check for a month or so he'll
be able to get on his feet again. And it will be like a vacation to
you. If anything happens to Hillars you will be expected to remain
permanently abroad. Hillars suggested you in his letter. Will you be
ready to go next Monday?"

"To-morrow if you like," I answered readily enough. Here was an
opportunity not to be missed. To see new scenes and faces is partially
to forget old ones.

"Very well. I'll give you some letters which will help you. Our
office is in the Strand. Hillars will find you lodgings. He has
bachelor quarters in the west end of the town, where congenial spirits
congregate. Come in to-morrow and we'll talk it over."

I was much pleased with the turn of events. If I could get away from
New York I might forget Phyllis--no, not forget her; I loved her too
well ever to forget her; but the prolonged absence would cure me of my
malady.

Before going to bed that night I lit a cigar, but not with the check.
On sober second thought I calculated that the sum would pay up all my
debts and leave me a comfortable margin. A man can well pocket his
pride when he pockets a thousand dollars with it. And why not? I was
about to start life anew and might as well begin on a philosophical
basis. Who knew but my uncle had foreseen the result of his bequest;
my rage, my pride, and finally lighting a cigar with his check? It
really might make his spirit writhe to better effect if I became
benefited. Sober second thought is more or less a profitable
investment.

On the morrow everything was arranged for my departure. I was to leave
Saturday morning.

It was a beautiful day, crisp and clear, with a bare ground which rang
to the heel. In the afternoon I wandered over to the Park and sat down
on a bench, and watched the skaters as they glided to and fro. I
caught myself wishing that I was a boy again, with an hour's romp on
the sheeny crust in view. Gradually the mantle of peace fell upon me,
and there wa