eeling desirous now of
turning away from the subject of Marion, which was undergoing the same
treatment from Jack which a fine and delicate watch would receive at
the hands of a big baby. "No fresh, proposals?"

"No," said Jack, dolefully, "nothing but chaff."

"And Miss Phillips?"

"Affairs in that quarter are in _statu quo_," said Jack. "She's chosen
to not-at-home me, and how it's going to turn out is more than I can
tell. But I'll be even with her yet. I'll pay her off!"

"Perhaps you won't find it so easy as you imagine."

"Won't I?" said Jack, mysteriously; "you'll see."

"Perhaps she's organizing a plan to pay _you_ off."

"That's more than she can do."

"By-the-way--what about the widow?"

"Well," said Jack, seriously, "whatever danger is impending over me,
maybe looked for chiefly in that quarter."

"Have you seen her lately?"

"No--not since the evening I took the chaplain there."

"You must have heard something."

"Yes," said Jack, moodily.

"What?"

"Well, I heard from Louie, who keeps well up in my affairs, you know.
She had gathered something about the widow."

"Such as what?"

"Well, you know--she wouldn't tell."

"Wouldn't tell?"

"No--wouldn't tell--chaffed me--no end, but wouldn't go into
particulars."

"But could you find out whether it affected you or not?"

"Oh, of course, I took that for granted. That was the point of the
whole joke, you know. Louie's chaff consisted altogether of allusions
to some mysterious plan, of the widow's, by which she would have full,
ample, perfect, complete, and entire vengeance on me."

"That's bad."

"It is."

"A widow's a dangerous thing."

"Too true, my boy," said Jack, with a sigh; "nobody knows that better
than I do."

"I wonder you don't try to disarm her."

"Disarm her?"

"Yes--why don't you call on her?"

"Well, confound it, I did call only a day or two ago, you know. The
last two or three days I've been engaged."

"Yes, but such an engagement will only make the widow more furious."

"But, confound it, man, it's been simply impossible to do any thing
else than what I have been doing."

"I'll tell you what it is, Jack," said I, solemnly, "the widow's your
chief danger. She'll ruin you. There's only one thing for you to do,
and that is what I've already advised you to do, and Louie, too, for
that matter. You must fly."

"Oh, bosh!--how can I?"

"Leave of absence--sell out--any thing."

Jack shook his head, and gave