go round to see her while she thinks you're
still at work."

Mr. Henshaw complimented him upon his artfulness, and, with some
confidence in a man of such resource, walked home in a more cheerful
frame of mind. His heart sank as he reached the house, but to his relief
the lights were out and his wife was in bed.

He was up early next morning, but his wife showed no signs of rising.
The cupboard was still empty, and for some time he moved about hungry
and undecided. Finally he mounted the stairs again, and with a view
to arranging matters for the evening remonstrated with her upon her
behavior and loudly announced his intention of not coming home until
she was in a better frame of mind. From a disciplinary point of view the
effect of the remonstrance was somewhat lost by being shouted through
the closed door, and he also broke off too abruptly when Mrs. Henshaw
opened it suddenly and confronted him. Fragments of the peroration
reached her through the front door.

Despite the fact that he left two hours earlier, the day passed but
slowly, and he was in a very despondent state of mind by the time he
reached Mr. Stokes's lodging. The latter, however, had cheerfulness
enough for both, and, after helping his visitor to change into fresh
clothes and part his hair in the middle instead of at the side, surveyed
him with grinning satisfaction. Under his directions Mr. Henshaw also
darkened his eyebrows and beard with a little burnt cork until Mr.
Stokes declared that his own mother wouldn't know him.

"Now, be careful," said Mr. Stokes, as they set off. "Be bright and
cheerful; be a sort o' ladies' man to her, same as she saw you with
the one on the 'bus. Be as unlike yourself as you can, and don't forget
yourself and call her by 'er pet name."

"Pet name!" said Mr. Henshaw, indignantly. "Pet name! You'll alter your
ideas of married life when you're caught, my lad, I can tell you!"

He walked on in scornful silence, lagging farther and farther behind
as they neared his house. When Mr. Stokes knocked at the door he stood
modestly aside with his back against the wall of the next house.

"Is George in?" inquired Mr. Stokes, carelessly, as Mrs. Henshaw opened
the door.

"No," was the reply.

Mr. Stokes affected to ponder; Mr. Henshaw instinctively edged away.

"He ain't in," said Mrs. Henshaw, preparing to close the door.

"I wanted to see him partikler," said Mr. Stokes, slowly. "I brought a
friend o' mine, name o' Alfr