The dinner at Comethup's hotel passed in silence until almost the finish; then Brian, warmed by wine, looked up at the man opposite, and shook his head at him rallyingly, and spoke in his most charming and playful manner: "My dear old boy, when I'm dead you shall write my biography, the whole amazing business--'pon my word, you shall!" "No," said Comethup, shaking his head; "I don't think--I'm quite sure I couldn't do that." "Why not?" "Well, you see," replied Comethup gravely, "you've done so many things I don't understand; I might--might misinterpret them. Employ some one who doesn't know you." They crossed to England together and went on to London. Comethup left his own luggage at the London terminus and would have parted there with Brian; but the latter had a devilish scheme in his head--a well-contrived and carefully-thought-out piece of cruelty--the only revenge of which he was capable for his defeat. "I'm not going to leave you here," said Brian; "you've got to come on to the house with me, come in with me, and see your work concluded. By God! I'm not going to have the thing half done; you've undertaken it, and you shall see it through to the bitter end. Oh, yes, you shall see the touching reconciliation between husband and wife; you shall stand, figuratively, with uplifted hands to bless them." "I--I'd rather not," said Comethup hastily. "Why not meet her in quite the usual fashion, and--and make what excuses you will for your absence?" "Not a bit of it. I'm not going to let you off so easily. I shall say we met in Paris and travelled over together. I tell you you sha'n't get out of it." "Do you insist?" "I do. You shall find, friend Comethup, that you don't have things all your own way; we don't part until you leave me safely in the bosom of my family. You can't trust me, you know," he added sneeringly. They drove together to the house. But for that hidden side of the picture the return of the prodigal would have been a matter for laughter. Mr. Robert Carlaw was in the hall, affected almost to tears; he haughtily brushed aside the servant who would have assisted with the luggage, and valorously staggered under its weight himself, murmuring between gasps, "My son, my beloved son!" Comethup would have made his escape, but Brian caught him by the arm and dragged him into the room where 'Linda was. She started up and ran to her husband; he took her with excessive tenderness into his arms, casting a side glance at his cousin. "Why, my darling," he cried, "you hug me as though you feared you had lost me altogether. Surely you know my erratic behaviour by this time? I had to rush off to Paris on business--business that admitted of no delay.--Kiss me again, my love; why, you're almost crying!--and in Paris I met Comethup--dear old moral Comethup in Paris; think of it! So we travelled home together. Oh, you needn't be ashamed of your tears or your joy before Comethup; _he_ doesn't mind--do you, old chap?"