"Shut up like a jail, is it?" quoth Duffham. "I have just had a note from Stockhausen, asking me to call there. His throat's troubling him again, he says: wants me to give him something that will cure him by to-morrow." I had turned with the doctor, and went walking with him up the garden, listening to what he said. But I meant to leave him when we reached the door. He began trying it. It was fastened inside. "I dare say you can come in and see Hyde, Johnny. What do you want with him?" "Not much; only to wish him good luck." "Is your master afraid of thieves that he bolts his doors?" cried Duffham to old Preen when she let us in. "'Twas me fastened it, sir; not master," was her reply. "That gipsy wretch have been about yesterday and to-day, wanting to get in. I've got my silver about, and don't want it stolen. Mr. Hyde's mother and Massock have been here to dinner; they've not long gone." Decanters and fruit stood on the table before Hyde. He started up to shake hands, appearing very much elated. Duffham, more experienced than I, saw that he had been taking quite enough wine. "So you have had your stepfather here!" was one of the doctor's first remarks. "Been making up the quarrel, I suppose." "He came of his own accord; I didn't invite him," said Hyde, laughing. "My mother wrote me word that they were coming--to give me their good wishes for the future." "Just what Johnny Ludlow here says he wants to give," said Duffham: though I didn't see that he need have brought my words up, and made a fellow feel shy. "Then, by Jove, you shall drink them in champagne!" exclaimed Hyde. He caught up a bottle of champagne that stood under the sideboard, from which the wire had been removed, and would have cut the string but for the restraining hand of Duffham. "No, Hyde; you have had rather too much as it is." "I swear to you that I have not had a spoonful. It has not been opened, you see. My mother refused it, and Massock does not care for champagne: he likes something heavier." "If you have not taken champagne, you have taken other wine." "Sherry at dinner, and port since," laughed Hyde. "And more of it than is good for you." "When Massock sits down to port wine he drinks like a fish," returned Hyde, still laughing. "Of course I had to make a show of drinking with him. I wished the port at Hanover." By a dexterous movement, he caught up a knife and cut the string. Out shot the cork with a bang, and he filled three of the tumblers that stood on the sideboard with wine and froth--one for each of us. "Your health, doctor," nodded he, and tossed off his own. "It will not do your throat good," said Duffham, angrily. "Let me look at the throat." "Not until you and Johnny have wished me luck." We did it, and drank the wine. Duffham examined the throat; and told Hyde, for his consolation, that it was not in a state to be trifled with.