"I am taking you to my friend, Andrew McTavish, who has a commodious residence in Mecklenburg Square--just handy. There, over a glass of whisky, Mr. Lamb will be able to tell us just what his wife told him. He'll find us interested listeners." There was a dryness in the doctor's tone which was lost upon the gentleman at his side, who occupied the short distance they had to traverse by protestations of the regard he had always felt for the old acquaintance whom fortune, or destiny, had again thrown across his path. That night Mr. Brown was his partner's guest at dinner. Both gentlemen were still smarting from the outrage to which Mrs. Gregory Lamb had subjected them that afternoon. Dinner was finished; they were in the library, planning schemes of vengeance, when the servant announced that Dr. Twelves was outside, and was desirous of seeing Mr. McTavish. Before the servant was able to explain that the visitor was not alone, the doctor himself marched in with his retinue. The partners rose from their chairs in surprise. "McTavish--Brown--I have the honour to introduce you to Miss Margaret Wallace, a young lady of whom you have heard a good deal, and whom I am sure you'll be delighted to know. This is Mr. Harry Talfourd, of whom you may have also heard something. And this, gentlemen--this is Mr. Gregory Lamb, the husband of the lady of whom, I fancy, you have perhaps heard rather too much." If the look upon the partners' faces meant anything, there could be no doubt upon the latter point. Both Mr. McTavish and Mr. Brown stared at Mr. Lamb as if he were not only the strangest, but also the most unwelcome, object they had ever beheld. Then Mr. McTavish turned to the doctor, with a gasp. "I'd have you to know, Dr. Twelves, that you're taking a great liberty. You're presuming on our friendship in venturing to bring this individual to my house, and at this time of night. Brown, I'll trouble you to ring the bell. Mr. Lamb shall be shown to the door, before we have him behaving as his wife did this afternoon." Mr. McTavish had become rubicund with agitation; the doctor remained placid. "In less than five minutes, Andrew, you'll be acknowledging that I've done you a very considerable service in bringing Mr. Lamb to this house, and you'll be begging my pardon for the remarks which you have just made." Mr. Brown, obedient to his partner's request, had rung the bell. A servant appeared. Him Dr. Twelves addressed before Mr. McTavish had a chance of speaking. "You'll have the goodness to bring a decanter of whisky, and the other necessaries, at once." When the man looked at his master for an endorsement of this order the doctor explained. "Andrew, Mr. Lamb has a communication to make which I think you will find of interest; he proposes to make it while enjoying a glass of prime whisky." "I cannot imagine what Mr. Lamb has to say which can be of interest to me, but, since you wish it--John, bring the whisky."