“Haven’t made up my mind, as yet,” returned our hero, putting aside the paper he had been reading. “What are your movements?” “I am obliged to go into the city――business matters, you know; but in the after part of the day I’m at your service――say about five, or between that hour and six. We can go together somewhere after then, and see what’s to be seen. What say you――shall I meet you here?” “Yes, I will be here at about six.” “Let’s have dinner together at that hour, then.” “Agreed.” “Then we shall have the evening before us.” Mr. Kempshead parted with his newly-made acquaintance with this understanding, and proceeded into the city. Peace bent his steps in the direction of the Kensington Museum. He had heard a good deal of this place, where he found an almost countless number of objects, which had for him a special interest. Throughout his life he had always evinced a great fondness for works of art and mechanical appliances, and the exhibition of patent articles in the museum was to him one of its most noticeable and attractive features. He, therefore, found no difficulty in disposing of his time till the dinner hour. Upon his return to Sanderson’s Hotel he found his friend awaiting his re-appearance. Dinner was served, which was done ample justice to by both gentlemen. It was washed down by divers and sundry glasses of Rhenish wine. Our hero had thrown aside the habits of the humble artisan, and went in for an aristocratic course of regimen. He was not adapted for it――neither did it suit him; but there is an old saying, “When at Rome do as Rome does.” Peace was mindful of this, and gave himself all the airs and graces of a high-born patrician. An hour or two passed over, during which period Mr. Kempshead lounged on the sofa, puffed his fragrant weed, and partook of a cup of black coffee. “Now, then, what shall us boys go in for?” he said, addressing himself to Peace. “I’m in your hands, and leave the matter to your disposal,” returned the latter. “Very good――so be it. In the first place, old fellow, I want to introduce you to a little drum, which is not far from here. It’s a club I belong to――the members are a jolly lot of fellows. By the by, do you play?” “Do I what?” “Do you play――gamble?” “At present that is not one of my accomplishments. “Surprised at that. Every fellow does that sort of thing nowadays. Couldn’t get through the world, you know, without doing something in the betting or gambling line. Still, you’ve no occasion to play unless you like. There’s no harm in looking on.” “Oh, I’ll go,” cried Peace. “Right you are; we’ll be off at once then.” The two friends sallied forth from the hotel. The club to which Kempshead alluded was situated in a dingy street at the west end of the town. It was ostensibly a proprietory club――the proprietors thereof drove a tolerably profitable trade.