ld and
calculating for real affection; in fact, after another glance, he began
to doubt if it indicated affection at all.

"It's like old times, Bert," said Miss Evans, with an odd smile. "Do you
remember what you said that afternoon when I put the hot spoon on your
neck?"

"Yes," was the reply.

"What was it?" inquired the girl.

"I won't repeat it," said Mr. Carter, firmly.

He was reminded of other episodes during the meal, but, by the exercise
of tact and the plea of a bad memory, did fairly well. He felt that he
had done very well indeed when, having cleared the tea-things away, Nancy
came and sat beside him with her hand in his. Her brother grunted, but
Mr. Evans, in whom a vein of sentiment still lingered, watched them with
much satisfaction.

Mr. Carter had got possession of both hands and was murmuring fulsome
flatteries when the sound of somebody pausing at the open door caused
them to be hastily withdrawn.

"Evening, Mr. Evans," said a young man, putting his head in. "Why,
halloa! Bert! Well, of all the----"

"Halloa!" said Mr. Carter, with attempted enthusiasm, as he rose from his
chair.

"I thought you was lost," said the other, stepping in and gripping his
hand. "I never thought I was going to set eyes on you again. Well, this
is a surprise. You ain't forgot Joe Wilson, have you?"

"Course I haven't, Joe," said Mr. Carter. "I'd have known you anywhere."

He shook hands effusively, and Mr. Wilson, after a little pretended
hesitation, accepted a chair and began to talk about old times.

"I lay you ain't forgot one thing, Bert," he said at last.

"What's that?" inquired the other.

"That arf-quid I lent you," said Mr. Wilson.

Mr. Carter, after the first shock of surprise, pretended to think, Mr.
Wilson supplying him with details as to time and place, which he was in
no position to dispute. He turned to Mr. Evans, who was still acting as
his banker, and, after a little hesitation, requested him to pay the
money. Conversation seemed to fail somewhat after that, and Mr. Wilson,
during an awkward pause, went off whistling.

"Same old Joe," said Mr. Carter, lightly, after he had gone. "He hasn't
altered a bit."

Miss Evans glanced at him, but said nothing. She was looking instead
towards a gentleman of middle age who was peeping round the door
indulging in a waggish game of peep-bo with the unconscious Mr. Carter.
Finding that he had at last attracted his attention, the gentlem