d advice flowed from his lips."]

Their talk was mainly of Sunwich and Sunwich people, and it was an easy
step from these to Equator Lodge. On that subject most people would have
found the ex-steward somewhat garrulous, but Jem Hardy listened with
great content, and even brought him back to it when he showed signs of
wandering. Altogether Mr. Wilks spent one of the pleasantest evenings of
his life, and, returning home in a slight state of mental exhilaration,
severely exercised the tongues of Fullalove Alley by a bearing considered
incompatible with his station.

Jem Hardy paid a return call on the following Friday, and had no cause to
complain of any lack of warmth in his reception. The ex-steward was
delighted to see him, and after showing him various curios picked up
during his voyages, took him to the small yard in the rear festooned with
scarlet-runner beans, and gave him a chair in full view of the
neighbours.

"I'm the only visitor to-night?" said Hardy, after an hour's patient
listening and waiting.

Mr. Wilks nodded casually. "Miss Kate came last night," he said.
"Friday is her night, but she came yesterday instead."

Mr. Hardy said, "Oh, indeed," and fell straight-way into a dismal reverie
from which the most spirited efforts of his host only partially aroused
him.

Without giving way to undue egotism it was pretty clear that Miss Nugent
had changed her plans on his account, and a long vista of pleasant Friday
evenings suddenly vanished. He, too, resolved to vary his visits, and,
starting with a basis of two a week, sat trying to solve the mathematical
chances of selecting the same as Kate Nugent; calculations which were not
facilitated by a long-winded account from Mr. Wilks of certain
interesting amours of his youthful prime.

Before he saw Kate Nugent again, however, another old acquaintance turned
up safe and sound in Sunwich. Captain Nugent walking into the town saw
him first: a tall, well-knit young man in shabby clothing, whose bearing
even in the distance was oddly familiar. As he came closer the captain's
misgivings were confirmed, and in the sunburnt fellow in tattered clothes
who advanced upon him with out-stretched hand he reluctantly recognized
his son.

"What have you come home for?" he inquired, ignoring the hand and eyeing
him from head to foot.

"Change," said Jack Nugent, laconically, as the smile left his face.

The captain shrugged his shoulders and stood silent. His son