," he went on, "my literary inventions have ceased to interest me. I
have latterly resumed the chemical studies, associated with that happy
time in my life when I was entering on the medical profession. Unluckily
for you, I have been trying an experiment to-day, which makes such an
abominable smell in my room that I dare not ask you to enter it. The
fumes are not only disagreeable, but in some degree dangerous. You saw me
at the window, perhaps, with my nose and mouth protected before I opened
the bottle?"

I repeated the affirmative sign. He produced his little book of blank
leaves, and opened it ready for use.

"May I hope," he said, "that your visit is intended as a favorable reply
to my letter?"

I took the pencil, and answered him in these terms:

"Your letter has satisfied me that I was mistaken in treating you like a
stranger. I have come here to express my regret at having failed to do
you justice. Pray be assured that I believe in your better nature, and
that I accept your letter in the spirit in which you have written it."

He read my reply, and suddenly looked at me.

Never had I seen his beautiful eyes so brightly soft, so irresistibly
tender, as they appeared now. He held out his hand to me. It is one of my
small merits to be (in the popular phrase) as good as my word. I took his
hand; well knowing that the action committed me to accepting his
friendship.

In relating the events which form this narrative, I look back at the
chain, as I add to it link by link--sometimes with surprise, sometimes
with interest, and sometimes with the discovery that I have omitted a
circumstance which it is necessary to replace. But I search my memory in
vain, while I dwell on the lines that I have just written, for a
recollection of some attendant event which might have warned me of the
peril towards which I was advancing blindfold. My remembrance presents us
as standing together with clasped hands; but nothing in the slightest
degree ominous is associated with the picture. There was no sinister
chill communicated from his hand to mine; no shocking accident happened
close by us in the river; not even a passing cloud obscured the sunlight,
shining in its gayest glory over our heads.

After having shaken hands, neither he nor I had apparently anything more
to say. A little embarrassed, I turned to the boat-house window, and
looked out. Trifling as the action was, my companion noticed it.

"Do you like that muddy river?