"_That's_ rest--when you can sit down in the one and idly watch the other," remarked Bede. "But to go scampering about for a month or two at railroad speed, neither body nor eye getting holiday, wears out a man worse than working on in London, Mr. Channing." With a slow, lingering gaze at Hamish's refined face, which was looking strangely worn, and, so to say, etherealised, Bede passed on to his room Hamish turned to the desk of Hurst and Roland Yorke. "How are you?" he asked of them conjointly. "As well as cantankerous circumstances and people will let me be," was the cross reply of Roland, without looking up from his writing. Hamish laughed. "Just because I wanted a little leisure just now, I've got double work put on my shoulders," went on Roland. "You remember that time at old Galloway's, Hamish, when Jenkins and Arthur were both away together, throwing all the work upon me? Well, we've got a second edition of that here." "Who is away?" inquired Hamish. "Little Jenner. And he is good for three of us any day in point of getting through work. The result is, that Mr. Brown"--giving a defiant nod to the gentleman opposite--"keeps me at it like a slave. But for Arthur's being in London, I'd not mind some extra pressure, I'd be glad to oblige, and do it. Not that Arthur misses me, if one may judge by appearances," he continued in a deeply-injured tone. "I would not be two days in a strange place without going to see after _him_." "Have you not seen Arthur, then?" inquired Hamish. "No, I have not seen him," retorted Roland, with emphasis. "He has been too much taken up with you and other friends, to think of me. Perhaps he has gone over to Gerald's interests: and _his_ theory is, that I'm nobody worth knowing. Mother Jenkins has had her best gown on for two days, expecting him. Live and learn--and confound it all! I'd have backed Arthur Channing, for faith and truth, against the world." Hamish laughed slightly: any such interlude as this in Roland's generally easy nature, amused him always. "You and I and Mrs. Jenkins are in the same box, old fellow, for Arthur has not been to me." "Oh, hasn't he?" was Roland's answer, delivered with lofty indifference, and an angry shake of the pen, which blotted his work all over. "It's a case of Gerald, then. Perhaps he is taking him round to the Tower, and the waxwork, and the wild beasts--as I thought to do." "I expect it is rather a case of business," remarked Hamish. "You know what Arthur is: when he has work to do, that supersedes all else. Still I wonder he did not come round last night. We waited dinner until half-past seven." Roland was occupied in trying to repair the damage he had wilfully made, and gave no answer. "I came in now to ask you for news of him, Roland. Where is he staying?" "He has not called yet to see Annabel," broke in Roland. "And that I do think shameful." "Where is he staying?" "Staying! Why at the place in Norfolk Street. He told you where."