l notes for Monday
morning's paper. Latterly he was always at his desk, but seldom at the
service. Arriving home at two or three in the morning and sleeping until
about noon does not put a man into the mood for cultivating friendships
between two and eight p.m., supposing there were friendships to be
cultivated at such absurd hours of the day.

Thus Henry's life had been ordered since coming to Laysford; his office
and his bed eating up the most of it; his afternoons being devoted to a
walk in the park, or research at the public library and reading in his
rooms. The only house he had ever visited was that of the Wintons, and
there he had been but once on the journalist's Sunday, _i.e._, Saturday.

It was true, no doubt, that Mrs. Winton thought highly of him, and he
respected her as a very amiable landlady of past years. But Edgar could
have told him--and perhaps the affected suddenness of the invitation did
tell him--that it was not the matronly Mrs. Winton who had suggested his
coming. Edgar had indeed been prompted by a very broad hint from his
sister, whose interest in Henry had varied greatly from the first, but
was now rising with the prospect of his becoming a full-fledged editor.
Indeed, although there was more that one young man in Wheelton whom Flo
had boasted to her girl friends of being able to turn round her little
finger, the prospects of a "good match" in that limited sphere were not
quite equal to her desires, and she heartily seconded the proposal to
remove to Laysford. Henry had developed in interest, and there were
possibilities--who knew?

There were many reasons why Henry would have preferred to spend the
evening in his own rooms. The fragrance of Hampton came back to him the
moment that the train shot into Laysford, with its din of busy life. The
impression of village dulness receded, and here, with the rattle of
Edgar's irresponsible tongue in his ears, and the squalid story of his
editor's downfall to occupy his mind, he was fain to hark back again to
the memory of that quiet existence which he felt doomed to renounce for
ever. His worldly wisdom told him he need not repine at Macgregor's
folly, since it brought Henry Charles his opportunity; but the
philosopher in him saw the situation whole, and the squalid side of it
could not be ignored. As Edgar seemed bent on carrying him off, and as
he was not expected at the office until the following day, he decided to
accompany young Winton to his hom