e partners
to absent himself for those two days accordingly.

"It will be a pretty hard grind while it lasts," Jack said, "for the
examination goes on eight hours each day."

"When is the _viva-voce_ portion?" asked Mr Smith.

"To-morrow. They begin with it, and I shall be glad when it is over. I
don't mind the writing nearly so much."

"Hadn't you better go to bed now," suggested I, "and get a good-night?"

"So I will," said he, "presently. But I must first write to Mrs
Shield."

I happened to be looking towards Mr Smith the elder as Jack said this.
He gave a quick involuntary start, which, however, he instantly turned
off into a fit of coughing as his eyes met mine.

Mr Smith had had a racking cough ever since I had known him, but I
don't think I ever remembered his having a spasm of this kind before.

"The fact is," said Jack, whose back was turned, as he looked for some
note-paper on the shelf, "I ought to have written last week, but I was
so busy. And if I put it off any longer they will both think something
is wrong."

I only heard what he said mechanically, for my eyes were fixed on Mr
Smith.

His face had turned deadly white, and the old frightened look about his
eyes came out now with startling intensity. He certainly must be ill or
in pain.

"Are you--" I began.

But with a sudden effort he rose to his feet, and with a glance at Jack
motioned to me to be silent, and leave the question unasked.

"What?" said Jack, turning round to me.

"Are you--going to write a long letter?" I asked.

"I can't say till I begin," said Jack, laughing, and sitting down to
write.

"I'll say good-night," said Mr Smith, in a hoarse but otherwise
composed voice.

"Good-night," said Jack. "I wish you'd get rid of your cold. All that
night work must be bad for you."

Mr Smith shook hands with me in silence and quitted the room. I heard
his footsteps go strangely down the stairs, and his door shut behind him
in the room below.

I didn't feel comfortable. I was afraid he was ill--more ill than he
wished either of us to suspect. It was the only way in which I could
account for the spasm which preluded that last fit of coughing.

If it was so, he would be naturally anxious to conceal the fact from
Jack on the eve of his examination, and that would account for his
abrupt interruption of my question.

However, I had no examination to-morrow, and I was determined if
possible to know the truth about our