wants me, she may come for me."

"Do," said I, eagerly. "She's missed the appointment; why should you
care?"

"Pooh! a fellow can't act in that sort of way. No. Have it out. I've
acted badly enough, in a general way, but I won't go deliberately and
do a mean thing. I dare say this sort of thing will wear off in the
long run. We'll go to England next week. We'll start for New York
to-night, and never come back. I intend to try to get into the 178th
regiment. It's out in Bombay, I believe. Yes. I've made up my mind to
that. It's the only thing to be done. Yes--it's the best thing--far the
best for both of us."

"Both of you!"

"Both, yes; of course."

"What, you and the widow?"

"The widow? Confound the widow! Who's talking of her?"

"I thought you were talking of her. You said you were going to take her
to England."

"The widow? No," cried Jack, peevishly; "I meant Louie, of course. Who
else could I mean? Louie. I said it would be far better for me and
Louie if I went to Bombay."

And with these words he flung himself impatiently back in the carriage
and scowled at vacancy.

And this was Jack. This was my broad-browed, frank-faced,
golden-haired, bright, smiling, incoherent, inconsistent,
inconsequential, light-hearted, hilarious Jack--the Jack who was once
the joy of every company, rollicking, reckless, and without a care. To
this complexion had he come at last. Oh, what a moral ruin was here, my
countrymen! Where now were his jests and gibes--his wit, that was wont
to set the table in a roar? Alas! poor Yorick! _Amour_! _amour_! _quand
tu nous tiens_, who can tell what the mischief will become of us! Once
it was "not wisely but too many"--now it was "not wisely but too well"
--and this was the end of it. O Louie! O Jack! Is there no such thing
as true Platonic love on earth?

But there was not much time for Jack to scowl or for me to meditate.
The widow did not live very far away, and a quarter of an hour was
enough to bring us there.

It was a handsome house. I knew it well. Jack knew it better. But it
looked dark now, and rather gloomy. The shutters were closed, and there
was no sign of life whatever.

Jack stared at the house for a moment, and then jumped out. I followed.
We hurried up the steps, and Jack gave a fierce pull at the bell,
followed by a second and a third.

At the third pull the door opened and disclosed a maid-servant.

"Mrs. Finnimore?" said Jack, as he stepped into the hall--and