Nothing loth, for they really had been friends, Felix took Charley's arm, and they made a capital supper, laughing and joking and quizzing as they had done in the olden times. "But I say, old fellow," said Charley, "tell us about it. What's up?" "I was," cried Felix merrily--he was in the gayest of humours, for the circumstance of Charley looking for him after the play to shake hands with him had gladdened his heart--"high up, eh? And only sixpence! You and I have been in queerer places, haven't we, old boy?" And they fell-to again fishing up pleasant memories from the past. They were supping together in Charley's room at the very hotel which Felix had patronised when he first came to London. "The waiter seems to know you, Felix," said Charley. "I was a lodger here once, and played the part of Grand Bashaw with twopence-ha'penny in my pocket. When my twopence-ha'penny was spent, I fled." "An honourable retreat, I'll swear," remarked Charley. Felix twirled his cigar, and puffed out royally. "And now, old fellow, I must know all about you." Felix told his friend all; of his quarrel with his father, softening that part of the story, and taking much blame to himself; of his quitting his home for ever and ever, never more to return, with his twopence-ha'penny in his purse; of his coming to London to conquer the world; of his failure; of his funds running out; and of his taking to the arts for a living. Only casually did he mention Lily, but his heart was so full of tenderness for her, that the few words he uttered respecting her were rightly interpreted by his friend. "Felix, you are in love." Felix puffed away in silence, and looked into the fire. "Come, old fellow," continued Charley, "we used to have no secrets; we shared and shared, you remember." "Well, Charley," replied Felix, "I have kept no secret from you. You know this one, at all events, and you know it from me. But don't let us talk about it; the odds are that it will come to nothing." "One word only--rich?" "Poor as I am." "And a lady?" "A tender-hearted, pure-souled girl. 'Right about face!'" Which, in the old days, was a favourite cry with them when a subject was to be dismissed from their conversation. "I borrowed some money of you once, Felix." "You did, Charley, old boy--and paid it." "Are you sure?" Felix laughed, rather boisterously. "That won't do, old boy," he said; "no beating about the bush between us two. The grog's confoundedly strong." (It must have been, for it made his eyes water.) "Look here, Charley, I want money--badly; but I must earn it. Now, if you could help me to anything in the newspaper way----" Charley broke in here with "I can by Jove! You can do newspaper correspondence?" Felix nodded excitedly.