"He was _so_ glad to see me," she said, "and he kissed me twice. We had such an interesting discussion about the _amoeba_." "The _what_?" asked Frances. "The _amoeba_--tiny animalcules, don't you know, that have the power of changing their form and appearance. Jacky thinks that perhaps man, too, in the process of time and evolution might scientifically acquire this--" "How silly!" laughed my darling. And I thought so too. Of course if a man looked like himself once, he would _always_ look like himself. Any fool knew that! Later, the judge came to my room, accompanied by Wilkes with some Heidelberg punch, _frappe_. "Couldn't leave you out of this," he said genially; "besides, wanted to toast your first night under the roof of Wolhurst! "Hope they're making you comfortable," he went on. "Infernal shame, Lightnut, that I've had to neglect you so; so absurdly busy, you know--_you_ understand?" I pretended to, for I knew he wanted me to _think_ that, but I had heard the butler tell the frump that the judge was _reading_. "Don't expect to retire at all," he continued; "and then there's my promise to my poor boy--I _must_ keep that somehow; never failed on a promise in my life--I mean, you know, about wearing his new pajamas." He shook his head sadly. "T' be sure!"--and I swallowed hard--Jove, but the very word, "pajamas," gave me cold marrows! "And, my boy, I haven't forgotten my promise to _you_, either," he continued, smiling kindly and replenishing my glass to the brim. "I'm still going to have a word with Francis to-night--that is, if they ever get back from that infernal dog-fight--I want to pave the way for you, you know." "Thanks awfully!" I murmured nervously. Somehow, I felt mean--always hate to feel mean, dash it--felt almost like a jolly cad, in fact. _Couldn't_ tell him how far Frances and I had progressed already; he might take it out on her, you know. And _then_, to find out that he didn't know she hadn't gone to the dog-fight after all! "Well," he sighed, "I will manage it all somehow, even about the pajamas. Perhaps, when the house is quiet, I may--_here_, have another--oh, yes, you must!--won't hurt you; only a pint or so of rum in the whole mixture. Fine, isn't it? Yes, I think Wilkes is certainly an artist when it comes to a nightcap. Now, let me fill yours again--_oh_, yes!"--and he did it--"Won't hurt a baby--make you sleep tight, you know!" And, by Jove, I had to go it! "Well--" he shifted as if to go, and sent me a smile over his glass's rim, "pleasant dreams!" And then the door closed behind our "good nights." Jenkins was studying me somberly. "Yes, sir," he said presently, when I had made comment about the bully punch. And that was about all I could get out of him, until he was ready to push out the light. Then he addressed me gloomily: "Good night, sir," he said with a sickly, feeble smile, "I hope you'll sleep well; and--" he coughed faintly--"and--er--wake up--h'm--all right!"