"Guess we had better fix those two up at once," he said. "Any one got a knife?" Keith put his hand in his pocket, and produced therefrom Meg's present. "Great Cæsar, what a pig-sticker," said Fenton, holding it up. "What made you buy such a thing, Stewart?" asked Felix, laughing. "I didn't buy it," replied Keith; "it's a present from a lady." "A very young lady, I should say," said Slingsby drily; "not much idea of taste." "Matter of opinion," said Keith serenely; "I like the knife for the sake of the donor--her name's on the handle." Fenton by this time had opened the bottle, and laid the knife down on the table, from whence Felix picked it up and examined it. "'From Meg,'" he read, in an amused tone; "gad, Stewart, I thought it was the mother, not the daughter." Fenton shot a fiery glance at Keith, who laughed in rather an embarrassed manner. "It was just the child's whim," he said, laughing. "I saved her from the tram-car, so she gave me this as a souvenir;" and, taking up the knife, he shut it with a sharp click, and slipped it into his overcoat pocket. When they had all finished the wine, Fenton said he had to see Mortimer about some business. "Half-past ten," he said, looking at his watch; "they'll just be about through." "I've got to see Mortimer to-night," observed Keith, "and I'm waiting here for Lazarus." "About the new play, I reckon," said Fenton; "well, you'd better walk up with me." Keith shook his head. "No, thanks; I must wait for Lazarus." "Then come and have a game of billiards in the meantime," said Felix, rising; "take off your coat, you'll find it hot." "All right," assented Keith readily "Here, Alfred," and, slipping off his coat, handed it to a waiter, who was just passing, "hang this up for me." The waiter took the coat, threw it over his arm, and vanished; while Keith and Felix strolled leisurely away in the direction of the billiard-room. "How the deuce does Stewart run it?" asked Fenton, looking after them; "he can't get much salary at old Lazarus' place." "Case of God tempering the wind to the shorn lamb," said Slingsby ironically. "Hang it, I don't think he ought to be a member of the Club, a confounded pawnbroker's clerk." "It is rather a topsy-turvy business, ain't it; but you see, in the colonies Jack's as good as his master." "And in some cases a deal better," said Pelk, referring to the relative positions of Malton and Fenton. "Particularly when Jack's got a pretty wife," finished Toltby significantly. Fenton knew this was a hint at his _penchant_ for Mrs. Malton, but he did not very well see how he could take it to himself, particularly when he saw every one smiling, so he smiled back saturninely at the circle. "You're devilish witty, boys," he said coldly; "guess the wine has sharpened your brains." As he strolled away in his usual cool manner, Slingsby looked after him. "Our friend's hard hit over Mrs. Malton," he said at length.