“She doesn't know anything about it. How prettily _she_ used to sing it; a pretty tune, isn't it? Good old days they were! Do you remember when you used to come to the Princess's with me? Didn't she look pretty?” “You never told me why you didn't marry her; I never heard the end of that story.” “There is nothing to tell. It's all over now. Do you remember how I used to dress myself up to go to the theatre? We used to go to supper at Scott's afterwards. I did not mind what I ate in those days.” “You hardly ever go to the theatre now, do you?” “Hardly ever. I shouldn't have gone to-night if it had not been for you. I don't know how it is, but I don't seem to enjoy myself as I used to.” The men ceased talking. Presently Frank broke the silence. “I hope you are getting on all right on the Stock Exchange. You haven't mentioned the subject.” “I don't know that there is much to say. Times are very bad just now. I don't think any one is doing much good.” “But you are with a very good firm. Nothing is going wrong, I hope.” “I don't think any one is making money. We have all been hard hit lately--war scares. But I daresay it will all come right.” “I never understood what you ever wanted to go into the business for. What do you, with your handsome place at Southwick, and your father with his thousands and thousands, want to turn yourself into a city clerk for?” “You see, you don't care about making money; I do--it was bred in me. Besides, I am an unselfish fellow. I never think of myself; I like to think of others. If I were to make a good thing out of this, I should be able to leave the missus independent.” Then, after a slight pause, Willy said: “But, by the way, I was forgetting. I got a letter this morning saying that if I met you in London I was to tell you that you were to come to Southwick for a ball.” “What ball?” “A subscription ball at Henfield--a county ball. Will you come?” “Yes, I don't mind. It should be rather fun. Are you going?” “Yes, I must go, worse luck, to chaperon my sisters.” “How do you go? Will the governor let you have the horses?” “Not he! We generally have a large 'bus. I am going down to-morrow by the twelve o'clock train. Will that be too early for you?” “Not if I go home now and pack up.” “You won't like that. You had better sleep here and get up early in the morning; your room is all ready.” “I couldn't manage it. I never could get back to the Temple, pack up, and meet you at twelve at London Bridge.” “It will be rather a cold walk for you; you are too late for the train, and the last 'bus, I am afraid, has gone.” “I shall have a hansom. The only thing that worries me is not being able to say good-bye to the missus.” “She's fast asleep. She won't mind--I'll make that all right.” “Then, at twelve o'clock at London Bridge!” VIII Sally rushed down to meet him, and she took him off for a walk in the garden.