“I have been busy showing London to Mrs. Cunningham and Miss Conyers,” he replied--for Millicent had insisted on keeping her former name, at any rate for the present--and Mark was somewhat glad that there had been no necessity for entering into any explanations. It was agreed that when he went down to discharge some of the servants and called upon his friends he should say nothing of the change in his position, but should assign as a motive that he intended to travel about for a long time, and that he felt he could not settle down in the lonely house, at any rate for two or three years; and therefore intended to diminish the establishment. “You will have some breakfast, Mark?” “No, thank you. I breakfasted two hours ago.” “Then you still keep to your intention to stay in London for a while?” “Yes. I don't feel that I could bear the house alone,” Mark replied. “You see, Mrs. Cunningham and my uncle's ward could not very well remain in a bachelor's home, and naturally, after what has happened, they would not like to do so, even if they could. They have gone down to Weymouth for a few weeks for a complete change; and Mrs. Cunningham talks of taking a house in town for a time. I am going to look for lodgings, and I want your advice as to the quarter likely to suit me.” “Why not take up your abode here for a time? There is a vacant room, and I should be very glad to have you with me.” “Thank you very much, Dick, but I should prefer being alone. You will have friends dropping in to see you, and at present I should be poor company. It will be some little time before I shall feel equal to society.” “Of course, Mark. I always speak first and think afterwards, as you know pretty well by this time. Well, what sort of lodgings do you want?” “I want them to be in a good but not in a thoroughly fashionable street. In time, no doubt, I shall like a little society, and shall get you to introduce me to some of the quieter of your friends, and so gradually feel my way.”