"No, thank you, old man," said Billy Dunlop; "I don't want to be away till just after Christmas. Within the month following that festive day, the number of persons engaged in trade who have a small amount to make up by a given period is extraordinary; and I feel it my duty to go into the country about that time, in order that no one may indulge any delusive hopes of pecuniary assistance from me." After a few minutes George Wainwright stepped across to Paul's desk, and leaning over it, said in a low voice, "What's the matter? Nothing fresh since your arrival?" "No, nothing at all," said Paul, in the same tone. "I found a note from her at the club, saying that she would meet me this afternoon, and expressed surprise at my having imagined that there had been any decrease in the warmth of her feelings for me, that's all." "And what makes you so horribly downcast?" "I cannot tell; I have a sense of oppression over me which I find it impossible to shake off. I had an idea that the mere fact of my return to London, the knowledge that I was so much nearer to her, would have dispersed it; but this morning it seems worse than ever. I think some of it is due to a certain feeling of remorse which I felt on parting with my mother yesterday; she seemed so horribly grieved about the failure of that other business, you know." "I think you may acquit yourself entirely on that score," said George, looking earnestly at his friend, "as I shall probably be able to prove to you before long." "What do you mean?" said Paul, in astonishment; "how can you know anything about it?" "Impossible for me to say just now," replied George; "control your curiosity for yet a short time longer, and you shall know. Meanwhile you may depend on what I have said to you. I only wish you were as well out of this other affair." No more was said on the subject, and Paul worked on as best he might, impervious to the sarcasms which his occasional fits of musing evoked from Mr. Dunlop. Soon after two o'clock he closed his blotting-book, and asked the Chief's leave to go away; alleging with a laugh that he had scarcely got acclimatised to the place, and that he must slide into his work by degrees. Good-natured Mr. Courtney of course assented, and after the performance of a rapid toilet, Paul hurried away.