eally been my friend, thought I, he would not be so
quick to cast me off, and judge me by one or two hasty words!

What between an evil conscience, vexation, and disappointment, I was
that day about the most miserable fellow alive. The fellows at the
office all noticed and added to my discomfort by ostentatiously
condoling with me.

"Poor old chap!" said Doubleday; "he's been letting you have it, has he?
Awful shame."

"As if a fellow mayn't get screwed without his interfering," laughed
Crow.

"It's nothing of the sort," said I, as usual taking in earnest what was
meant as a jest; "I was never screwed."

Crow's only answer was a whistle, which greatly amused all the others.

"Never mind," said Doubleday, "come along with us to-night, old man;
we've got a little spree on, haven't we, Crow? We're going to get tea
and shrimps at the Magpie, and then going in a body to the Serio-Comics,
and finish up with a supper somewhere or other. Going to make a regular
night of it. Come along."

"I don't want to," I said; "besides, I can't afford it."

"Afford your great-grandmother! Why, a fellow who can entertain the
whole lot of us as you did can't be so very hard up, can he, Wallop? So
come, none of your gammon. You're coming with us to-night, my boy, and
old Bull's-eye can sit and scowl at himself in the looking-glass if he
likes."

I went with them, glad enough to get anywhere out of Jack's sight. We
had a "rollicking evening," as the fellows called it; which meant that
after a noisy and extravagant tea at the Magpie we adjourned in a body
to the performance, where we made quite as much noise as the rest of the
audience put together, after which we finished up with a fish supper of
Doubleday's ordering, at a restaurant, the bill for which came to two
shillings a head.

I was not in a condition to enjoy myself. The thought of Jack haunted
me all the evening and made me miserable. I fancied him walking back
from Hawk Street alone. He would stop to talk to Billy, I knew, and
then he would go on to Beadle Square and bury himself in his book till
bedtime. Would he ever think of me? Why, even the little shoeblack was
more to him now than I was.

I got home late--so late that Mrs Nash protested angrily, and
threatened to stand my irregularities no longer. Jack was not asleep
when I entered the room, but at sight of me he turned over in his bed
and drew the clothes round him. I was angry and miserable and mad