f. Wait, and I'll come to
time. But don't be too hard on a fellow. Be reasonable. I want to take
breath."

"Name the day! name the day! name the day!" continued Jack, ringing the
changes on the words; "name the day! By Jove! See here, Macrorie--can't
you get a doctor's certificate for me and have me quietly put in the
lunatic asylum before that day comes?"

"That's not a bad idea," said I. "It might be managed. It's worth
thinking about, at any rate."

"Wild!" said Jack, "mad as a March hare, or a hatter, or any other
thing of that sort--ungovernable--unmanageable, devoid of all sense and
reason--what more do you want? If I am not a lunatic, who is? That's
what I want to know."

"There's a great deal of reason in that," said I, gravely.

"No there isn't," said Jack, pettishly. "It's all nonsense. I tell you
I'm a madman, a lunatic, an idiot, any thing else. I don't quite need a
strait-jacket as yet, but I tell you I do need the seclusion of a
comfortable lunatic asylum. I only stipulate for an occasional drop of
beer, and a whiff or two at odd times. Don't you think I can manage
it?"

"It might be worth trying," said I. "But trot on, old fellow."

Jack, thus recalled to himself, gave another very heavy sigh.

"Where was I?" said he. "Oh, about naming the day. Well, I'll be
hanged if she didn't do it. She did name the day. And what day do you
think it was that she named? What day! Good Heavens, Macrorie! Only
think of it. What do you happen to have to say, now, for instance, to
the 20th of June? Hey? What do you say to next Tuesday? Tuesday, the
20th of June! Next Tuesday! Only think of it. Mad! I should rather
think so."

I had nothing to say, and so I said nothing.

At this stage of the proceedings Jack filled a pipe, and began smoking
savagely, throwing out the puffs of smoke fast and furious. Both of us
sat in silence, involved in deep and anxious thought--I for him, he for
himself.

At last he spoke.

"That's all very well," said he, putting down the pipe, "but I haven't
yet told you the worst."

"The worst?"

"Yes; there's something more to be told--something which has brought me
to this. I'm not the fellow I was. It isn't the widow; it's something
else. It's--

CHAPTER XXXV.

"LOUIS!"--PLATONIC FRIENDSHIP.--ITS RESULTS.--ADVICE MAY BE GIVEN TOO
FREELY, AND CONSOLATION MAY BE SOUGHT FOR TOO EAGERLY.--TWO INFLAMMABLE
HEARTS SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED TO COME TOGETHER.--THE OLD, OLD STORY.--