So O'Rourke remained to lunch, and was vastly entertaining, and Mr. Hudson thawed again, having decided, during the soup, to accept the inevitable. CHAPTER V. AN UNCANNY GUEST Hemming finished his novel and took it to his publisher. Then he decided to go somewhere,--to get out of New York and back to the life that meant something. He confided his intention to O'Rourke, and later to Smith. "I wish you'd wait for awhile," pleaded O'Rourke, "and then I'd go with you." "How long do you want me to wait?" asked Hemming. "Oh, until we're married." "Great Scott, man, surely you don't intend deserting your bride immediately after the marriage ceremony!" "Not much," exclaimed O'Rourke, "but she could come, too." Hemming stared, for he knew that many of his friend's jokes required a lot of looking at; and Smith, who was tidying the table, hid his smile in the duster. "What have you been drinking?" inquired Hemming at last. O'Rourke made a movement as one awaking from a trance. He smiled foolishly. "Forgive me," he said; "for a moment I quite forgot what sort of trips we used to indulge in. Of course it would never do to take Helen on jaunts like those." "I wonder if you are old enough to take care of a wife," said his friend, severely. When Hemming returned to his rooms late that evening, he was still undecided as to where he would go. O'Rourke was away at some sort of function. Hemming had been walking for more than an hour, aimlessly, but at a hard pace. As he dropped wearily into his chair, Smith entered, and handed him a paper from the table. It was a note from Stanley, written in red ink on the back of a laundry list. It ran as follows: "Hurry 'round to my diggings as soon as you get this. I want you to meet my seafaring friend, who seems in a mood to honour me with a visit of some length. He is very droll, and looks as if he means to stay. I send this by our hall boy. "Merrily yours, "T. F. STANLEY." He found Stanley alone in a big and lavishly furnished room. He sat at a table, whereon stood two glasses, a syphon of soda-water, and a decanter. He stood up upon Hemming's entrance. "Ah," he said, "this is good of you. We had almost given up hopes of seeing you to-night." "I was out," replied Hemming, "and just got your note. Where is your seafaring friend?" "Allow me to introduce you," said Stanley. "Mr. Kelley, my friend, Mr. Hemming." Hemming looked about him, open-mouthed, and, though he straightened his monocle, he could see neither hair nor track of Mr. Kelley. "What is your game?" he inquired, icily. "It is as I feared," said Stanley, "and I assure you the loss is yours. I alone may enjoy Kelley's delightful society, it appears. His very smile, as he sits there, has a world of humour in it. He tells such droll stories, too, of his adventures by land and sea." Hemming caught him roughly by the arm. "What damned nonsense is this?" he asked.