"DEAR HALIFAX,--The demon gains ascendency over me, but I still hold him in check. Can you dine with me to-night at half-past seven? "Yours sincerely, "WILFRED TOLLEMACHE." The letter was dated Wednesday morning. I should have received it twenty-four hours ago. Smothering a vexed exclamation, I rushed off to Mercer's Hotel. I asked for Tollemache, but was told by one of the waiters that he was out. I reflected for a moment and then inquired for the manager. He came out into the entrance-hall in answer to my wish to see him, and invited me to come with him into his private sitting-room. "What can I do for you, Dr. Halifax?" he asked. "Well, not much," I answered, "unless you can give me some particulars with regard to Mr. Tollemache." "He is not in, doctor. He went out last night, between nine and ten o'clock, and has not yet returned." "I am anxious about him," I said. "I don't think he is quite well." "As you mention the fact, doctor, I am bound to agree with you. Mr. Tollemache came in between six and seven last night in a very excited condition. He ran up to his rooms, where he had ordered dinner for two, and then came down to the bureau to know if any note or message had been left for him. I gathered from him that he expected to hear from you, sir." [Illustration: "IN A VERY EXCITED CONDITION."] "I am more vexed than I can express," I replied. "He wrote yesterday morning asking me to dine with him, and through a mistake the letter never got into my possession until twenty-four hours after it was written." "Poor young gentleman," replied the manager, "then that accounts for the worry he seemed to be in. He couldn't rest, but was up and down, watching, as I gather now, for your arrival, doctor. He left the house soon after nine o'clock without touching his dinner, and has not since returned." "Have you the least idea where he is?" I asked. "No, sir, not the faintest; Mr. Tollemache has left all his things about and has not paid his bill, so of course he's safe to come back, and may do so at any moment. Shall I send you word when he arrives?" "Yes, pray do," I answered. "Let me know the moment you get any tidings about him." I then went away. The manager had strict orders to give me the earliest information with regard to the poor fellow, and there was now nothing whatever for me to do but to try to banish him from my mind. The next morning I went at an early hour to Mercer's to make inquiries. The manager came himself into the entrance-hall to see me. "There's been no news, sir," he said, shaking his head: "not a line or a message of any sort. I hope no harm has happened to the poor gentleman. It seems a pity you shouldn't have got the letter, doctor, he seemed in a cruel way about your not turning up."