"Yes, I should be glad to do that, and I shall try it," said Gertrude, with a dreamy look in her eyes which changed to one of dislike and dread as a step was heard outside upon the gravel walk, and the two women looked at each other curiously. "Talk of some one--" said Mrs Hampton at last. At that moment the door was opened, and Saul Harrington ushered in. "Ah, ladies," he said cheerily, "both indoors upon a day like this. Well, I'm glad to find you at home. Come to say good-bye." "Good-bye?" said Gertrude. "Yes. I am going to the Continent for a month, and I have come down to try and persuade George to go with me. Do him no end of good. Where is he?" "I think he is in the study," said Gertrude. "What do you say to my scheme? Can you spare him for a fortnight?" "Spare who for a fortnight?" said the object of their debate, entering. "You, old fellow. I'm going to Paris, and then on to Switzerland, and back by the Rhine and Amsterdam. Come with me." "What, and do all the paying?" Saul flushed up, snatched his pocket-book from his breast and tore it open. "Well, I shan't ask you to pay for my circular ticket anyhow," he said, taking out a tiny book; "and here are my hotel coupons. Hang it all! how fond you men with coin are of insulting those without." "Well, we're cousins," said the other, with a sneering laugh. "All right, little one; I'll apologise before he goes," he continued, as Gertrude looked at him appealingly; and Saul winced as if it was painful to him to have Gertrude interfere on his behalf. "Then you will not come?" said Saul, leaning forward to show Gertrude the tickets. "No, thanks; I'm going to spend my last bachelor fortnight here." "Just as you like. Better have spent it with me. I'm sure Gertie does not want you with all her dresses to see to--what do you call it, Mrs Hampton--a _trousseau_?" "I believe so, Mr Saul," said the old lady dryly; "but when I was married, I had to do without." "You will not come, then," said Saul, at last, rising. "No, thanks; but you'll stop to dinner." "No; too many little preparations to make; letters to write, and that sort of thing. If I stay, will you alter your mind?" "No, no. In me behold a converted reprobate. I'm in training for a married man." "Oh, very well, then; I must be off. I'll write to you from Paris and let you know how I'm getting on, and where I stay in case you would like to join me." "No fear." "You may alter your mind, my lad. Good-bye, Gertie. Be an obedient girl. Good-bye, Mrs Hampton. Hang it all, George! you might ask a fellow to have a drink." "Oh, of course. Beg pardon. I'm such a teetotaller now, that I forget other people's wants. Eh, Gertie?" "I am sure you have been much better lately." "Oh, certainly! I shall not dispute it. Come along, Saul; you are case-hardened."