"I, at least, sir, am doing no harm in it." "Yes, you are, Johnny. You are suffering your eyes and mind to grow familiar with these things. So, their game is over, is it!" I turned round. They had finished, and were leaving. In looking for me, Tod saw Mr. Brandon. He came up to shake hands with him, and told me they were going. "Come in and see me to-morrow morning, Johnny Ludlow," said Mr. Brandon, in a tone of command. "Eleven o'clock." "Yes, sir. Where are you staying?" "The Tavistock; Covent Garden." "Johnny, what the mischief brings _him_ here?" whispered Tod, as we went downstairs. "I don't know. I thought it must be his ghost at first." From the billiard-rooms we went on to Gusty's chambers, and found him at home with some friends. He served out wine, with cold brandy-and-water for Crayton--who despised anything less. They sat down to cards--loo. Tod did not play. Complaining of a racking headache, he sat apart in a corner. I stood in another, for all the chairs were occupied. Altogether the party seemed to want life, and broke up soon. "Was it an excuse to avoid playing, Tod?" I asked, as we walked home. "Was what an excuse?" "Your headache." "If your head were beating as mine is, Johnny, you wouldn't call it an excuse. You'll be a muff to the end of your days." "Well, I thought it might be that." "Did you! If I made up my mind not to play, I should tell it out straightforwardly: not put forth any shuffling 'excuse.'" "Any way, a headache's better than losing your money." "Don't bother." * * * * * I got to the Tavistock at five minutes past eleven, and found Mr. Brandon reading the _Times_. He looked at me over the top of it, as if he were surprised. "So you _have_ come, Mr. Johnny!" "Yes, sir. I turned up the wrong street and missed my way: it has made me a little late." "Oh, that's the reason, is it," said Mr. Brandon. "I thought perhaps a young man, who has been initiated into the ways of London life, might no longer consider it necessary to attend to the requests of his elders." "But would you think that of me, sir?" Mr. Brandon put the newspaper on the table with a dash, and burst out with as much feeling as his weak voice would allow him. "Johnny Ludlow, I'd rather have seen you come to sweep a crossing in this vile town, than to frequent one of its public billiard-rooms!" "But I don't frequent them, Mr. Brandon." "How many times have you been in?" "Twice in the one where you saw me: once in another. Three times in all." "That's three times too much. Have you played?" "No, sir; there's never any room for me." "Do you bet?" "Oh no." "What do you go for, then?" "I've only gone in with the others when I have been out with them." "Pell's sons and the Honourable Mr. Crayton. Rather ostentatious of you, Johnny Ludlow, to hasten to tell me he was the 'Honourable.'" My face flushed. I had not said it in that light.