‘But, my dear boy, you must not be too precipitate. A word to her would perhaps——’ ‘I’ve quite made up my mind,’ says Wyndham steadfastly. ‘I shall look out for a tenant.’ ‘Dear Paul!’ says Mrs. Prior, touched by this nephew-like act, ‘I of course appreciate your sweetness in this matter. It is very dear of you to be so angry about the woman’s incivility to me, and if you have made up your mind about getting a tenant for the dear old Cottage, I think I can help you.’ Here Crosby leans forward. It is proving very interesting. ‘You mustn’t take any trouble,’ says Wyndham; ‘I couldn’t allow you.’ ‘It will be no trouble—for you,’ says Josephine, breaking into the conversation very affectionately. ‘Thanks awfully, but I think I’ve got a desirable tenant in my eye,’ says Wyndham—‘one suitable in every respect.’ ‘The real thing is to know if he is solvent,’ says Mrs. Prior. ‘Oh, I think so—I think so,’ says Wyndham thoughtfully. ‘Is he young or old?’ asks Josephine, who feels she ought to show some interest in his affairs. Wyndham remains wrapt up in thought for a moment, then apparently wakes up. ‘Oh, the tenant,’ says he dreamily. ‘Not old; no, not old!’ ‘At that rate you must introduce us to him,’ says Mrs. Prior, with quite surprising archness. ‘Solvent and not old! Quite a desirable acquaintance! What is his name, Paul?’ ‘I don’t know,’ says Wyndham. ‘Not know? But, my dear Paul!’ ‘I positively don’t,’ says Wyndham, in quite a loud voice. It occurs to Crosby that now at last he is telling the truth, and that he is wildly glad at being able to do so. But the truth! Where does it come in? Crosby grows curious. ‘Strange as it may sound, the name is unknown to me. And for the matter of that nothing is settled. There have been only preliminaries. There must always be preliminaries, you know,’ talking briskly to his aunt. ‘Well, be careful,’ says Mrs. Prior. ‘And whatever you do, Paul, don’t take a lady tenant. They are so difficult. Now promise me, Paul, you won’t take a lady as a tenant.’ Providentially, at this moment the very late supper is announced, and Paul, rising, gives his arm to Josephine, after which the conversation drifts into other channels. CHAPTER XVI. ‘This is the short and long of it.’ The moon is streaming brilliantly over the silent streets as the two men leaving Fitzwilliam Square turn presently into Stephen’s Green and then down Dawson Street. Crosby’s footsteps are bound for the Gresham Hotel, and Wyndham, who should have gone the other way, considering his rooms are in Elgin Road, walks with him silently, and so mechanically that it becomes at once plain to Crosby that he has lost himself a little in a world of troublous thought.