Laughing the joke aside, Hilliard looked with interest at Mr. Birching, and began to talk with him. The three young men consumed a good deal of wine, and after dinner strolled about the streets, until Narramore's fatigue and thirst brought them to a pause at a cafe on the Boulevard des Italiens. Birching presently moved apart, to reach a newspaper, and remained out of earshot while Narramore talked with his other friend. "What's going on?" he began. "What are you doing here? Seriously, I want you to go along with us. Birching is a very good sort of chap, but just a trifle heavy--takes things rather solemnly for such hot weather. Is it the expense? Hang it! You and I know each other well enough, and, thanks to my old uncle----" "Never mind that, old boy," interposed Hilliard. "How long are you going for?" "I can't very well be away for more than three weeks. The brass bedsteads, you know----" Hilliard agreed to join in the tour. "That's right: I've been looking forward to it," said his friend heartily. "And now, haven't you anything to tell me? Are you alone here? Then, what the deuce do you do with yourself?" "Chiefly meditate." "You're the rummest fellow I ever knew. I've wanted to write to you, but--hang it!--what with hot weather and brass bedsteads, and this and that----Now, what _are_ you going to do? Your money won't last for ever. Haven't you any projects? It was no good talking about it before you left Dudley. I saw that. You were all but fit for a lunatic asylum, and no wonder. But you've pulled round, I see. Never saw you looking in such condition. What is to be the next move?" "I have no idea." "Well, now, _I_ have. This fellow Birching is partner with his brother, in Brum, and they're tolerably flourishing. I've thought of you ever since I came to know him; I think it was chiefly on your account that I got thick with him--though there was another reason I'll tell you about that some time. Now, why shouldn't you go into their office? Could you manage to pay a small premium? I believe I could square it with them. I haven't said anything. I never hurry--like things to ripen naturally. Suppose you saw your way, in a year or two, to make only as much in an architect's office as you did in that----machine-shop, wouldn't it be worth while?" Hilliard mused. Already he had a flush on his cheek, but his eyes sensibly brightened. "Yes," he said at length with deliberation. "It would be worth while." "So I should think. Well, wait till you've got to be a bit chummy with Birching. I think you'll suit each other. Let him see that you do really know something about architecture--there'll be plenty of chances." Hilliard, still musing, repeated with mechanical emphasis: "Yes, it would be worth while." Then Narramore called to Birching, and the talk became general again.