After a hasty palaver we consigned the dam-thing to the Chauffeur and made for the Shepherd’s Bush Tube. We journeyed as far as Notting Hill Gate, and there Freddy, having borrowed my few remaining shillings, left me and went in search of his female cousin. This compelled me to lunch with one Timmins, a man of the Inner Temple, honoured by my acquaintance, but as he had had no warning of my arrival I was obliged to make the best of two old chicken legs and some rather older Gorgonzola, and after borrowing a couple of sovereigns from him, I treated him to a theatre. On crossing Piccadilly, after the performance, we were surprised to see Freddy engaged in altercation with a cabman in front of the Criterion. We crossed over to speak to him and the guileless one seized the opportunity to borrow half a sovereign from Timmins, whose purse and patience are inexhaustible. Then having disposed of the quarrelsome Jehu we decided to take the Templar to dinner at the Cabanero, which invitation he readily accepted, possibly with the idea of getting some return for his money. To fill up the time Timmins suggested the Aquarium, a place that both Freddy and I detest, but as we had borrowed about fifty shillings from the unfortunate man, we felt that this was the moment for a graceful concession. On our arrival we let Timmins out of the hansom first, but in spite of this subtle move I was compelled to pay the cabby, and then firmly resisting an impassioned appeal from a golden-haired lady in the entrance to give her a bracelet or something else, we passed the turnstiles and made with one accord for the nearest bar. I am unable to state the precise number of cherry brandies that Freddy had consumed during his absence from my care, but his lady cousin appeared to have had a distinctly exhilarating effect upon him. At any rate after two lagers had been followed by a sherry and bitters, he manifested a desire to dance, which was only suppressed by the advent of a uniformed attendant with a Bow-Street-and-seven-shillings-or-three-days glitter in his eye. The small sum of half-a-crown mollified this dignitary, a view of whose face was--as Freddy remarked--cheap at the price. Then, while Freddy and I were watching a lady in scanty costume who was advertised to dive from the roof into a six-foot tank, Timmins disappeared. After forty minutes’ diligent searching, which involved on Freddy’s part a frivolous conversation with the young lady at the assorted jewellery stall, we came upon the wanderer. He was seated in the centre of the crystal maze and a strong odour of patchouli, exchanging vows of undying affection with a lady of a certain age and uncertain character. The cab, in which we then set out for the Cabanero, cost me another half-crown, and the dinner which followed took nearly all our remaining bullion. However it was a great success.