"Listen to him! listen to Benedick the married man; so full of domestic happiness that he must crow over us poor bachelors. Very well, old fellow, as fate has willed it, is my life; the more work I have the happier I am: if I had not any, I should stick my head into the Temple fountain, and thereby incur the odium of the Benchers. No, I must not do that quite, while I've the old governor and Constance left, lest I should be supremely wretched; whereas in my work I'm thoroughly happy; and as for solitary chambers--well, they are solitary now, but they wern't once, and won't be again soon, I think. My old chum's coming home." "Your old chum? Who do you mean?" "Why, the man who lived with me in these rooms before, and will share them again, I hope. Gordon Frere." "Gordon Frere? Is he coming back to England--to London?" Robert Streightley's face turned pale as he asked this question, and his lips twitched with nervous anxiety. "I hope so. I've written to him to try and persuade him to do so. He's a clever fellow, airy and specious, with what they call a good 'gift of the gab;' and I want him to try his fortune at the bar." Streightley rose from his chair, took a few paces round the room, then settled himself again with his face shaded by his hand, looking at his friend. "You were very intimate with this man Frere, Charley?" he asked in a hard dry voice, after a minute's pause. "Intimate? Didn't he live here, I tell you?--though you knew it long since, if you'll only give yourself the trouble to recollect." "And you were thoroughly in his confidence?" Charles Yeldham answered, "Entirely." But the word had scarcely escaped him when he saw the drift of the question, and wished he had pondered ere replying. "Then you know, I suppose, that he--that he was--was in love with Miss Guyon--with my wife?" "My dear Robert, what on earth are you talking about, what on earth----" "Do you know it, or don't you?" "I have heard it, of course, and----" "You have heard it, of course; and now he's coming back! Coming back, curse him!" "My dear Streightley, have you taken leave of your senses? What on earth has the young man's return--although in past times he might have had sufficient good taste to admire Miss Guyon and hope to win her, for which I honour him--yes! I say I honour him--what on earth has his return to do with such an outbreak as this?" "Never mind, Charles Yeldham! He shan't see her! Look here--mark this--he may be a friend of yours or not, but he shan't see her. I'll have no renewal of old friendships and all that! He shan't see her! Mr. Guyon shall take care of that. I'll appeal to him, and he'll back me up, I know." "My dear Robert, if you're weak enough to have to appeal to your father-in-law in any matter in which your wife is concerned, I think you're to be pitied! However, don't fear! Any feeling which Frere may have had for Miss Guyon is quite past and gone, and now that she is Mrs. Streightley----"