It happened that Lady Weston White was close enough to hear the words, of which fact Arthur was oblivious, but as they moved on he turned in her direction, and caught another strange look from her. "What on earth does she look at me in that manner for?" he thought. "One might suppose I came without an invitation." He and Jack got their hats and coats, and going from the house, stopped at the corner of a street a few yards off. "I haven't a moment to spare, Arthur," said Jack, "nor have you, I should imagine. I had almost given you up; it is a mercy we met each other in that crowd." He took out his pocket-book. "I would walk home with you, old fellow, if I had time; you must take the will for the deed." "All right, old man," said Arthur; "it was very good of you to take all this trouble for me. I don't know how it was I miscalculated my finances so stupidly." "Oh, these accidents happen to all of us. Feel nervous about to-morrow?" "It makes me rather serious, you know." "Of course. Wish I could be there. Now, no nonsense, Arthur. Will seventy-five be enough? Isn't it cutting it rather close? Don't spoil the honeymoon for a ha'porth of tar. You can have a couple of hundred if you like. I've got it by me." "Well, make it a hundred," said Arthur. "It will be safer perhaps. Adelaide might take a fancy to a new bonnet." "Or to some chocolate creams, or to the moon and stars," said Jack, with a good-humoured smile, "and you'd get them for her. Say a hundred and fifty." "All right. A hundred and fifty." Jack Stevens, shaded by his friend's tall form--for several persons passed them as they were talking--counted out thirty five-pound Bank of England notes, and slipped them into Arthur's hand. "Thank you, Jack." "Not necessary. Good night, old fellow, and good luck to you. Kiss the pretty bride for me, and give her my love." "I will, old man." A few minutes afterwards Arthur Gooch was in his chambers, "clearing up," as he called it. He wanted to leave things as orderly as he could, and in the accomplishment of this laudable design there was a great deal to do. All the time he was writing and tearing up papers and burning them, and packing bags and portmanteau, he was thinking of Adelaide. "Dear little woman! I wonder if she is asleep. She hasn't left things to the last as I have done. Altogether too tidy for that. While I am fussing about in this musty room--what a cosy nest we shall come home to after the honeymoon!--there she lies, with a smile on her pretty mouth, dreaming of me. Your health, my darling!" [Illustration: "LET US GET OUT OF THIS AS QUICK AS WE CAN."] He had opened a bottle of champagne, of which he had already drunk a glass, and now he poured out another, and as he held it up to the light he saw Adelaide's bright eyes amid the sparkling bubbles. "Your health, my darling, and God bless you!" He drained the glass, and set it down.