“I should think it must be now, let me see, I have got it down somewhere; when I get home I'll look it up.” “Hang the looking up; better come and look me up.” The young men laughed. “It must be nearly a year and a half.” “I should think it must. Where are you staying? I am staying at Morley's Hotel, Trafalgar Square. Come and dine with me to-night.” Willy reflected. He stroked his moustache reflectively. “No,” he said, “I am afraid I can't. I have something to do.” “Nonsense! I don't believe you. What have you to do?” “I have some cheques to write.” “That won't take you a moment. You can do that at my place.” “I couldn't, I assure you. I must have my books and my own pen. I wouldn't write a cheque in that way for worlds.” “Why not? We'll go to a music-hall afterwards.” “I am very sorry, but I really couldn't--not to-night.” “You never go in for amusing yourself.” “Yes, I do; but what amuses you doesn't amuse me. I assure you I would sooner stay at home, write my cheques, and enter them carefully, than go to a music-hall.” Frank looked at Willy for a moment in mute amazement. Then he said: “But what's that you have under your arm in that brown paper parcel?” Willy laughed. “A leg of mutton; I have just been to the stores.” “You mean to say you buy legs of mutton at the stores, and carry them home? Supposing you met some one, if we were to--” “Not very likely, a foggy night like this. I have a small house in Notting Hill. I take the 'bus at the Circus. I shall be very glad if you will come with me; so will the missus.” “I forgot to ask about her, how is she?” “Very well. Come and see for yourself. Come and dine with us to-morrow. I can't give you one of your restaurant dinners, but if leg of mutton will suit, all I can say is that I shall be very happy.” “I'll come whenever you like.” “Can you come to-morrow?” “Yes. We might go to the theatre afterwards.” “We might. Be at my place at half-past six, that will give us plenty of time.” “What a queer fish he is,” thought Frank, as he walked down Regent Street, looking at the women. “Can't come and dine with me because he has two or three cheques to write, must have all his books out to make entries--what a clerk for the Government--an ideal clerk! What a genius for red tape!” Willy was standing on the steps of the little house, and he commented on his friend's extravagances as he welcomed him. “You might have come here for ninepence, third class. You paid that cabman three shillings, and you took, I don't mind betting, half an hour longer. Now, don't make a mess, do wipe your feet; we don't keep a servant, and it gives the missus a lot of trouble cleaning up.”