trick of cheerfully abusing his friends which they rather liked than
otherwise.

"And why should I sit opposite six feet of foolishness which can give me
no comfort? Whew! But I think I am getting cool at last. I have sworn
to make use of my first half-hour of reasonable temperature and
consequent clearness of mind to plan flight from this place."

"May I come with you, my pretty maid? I am hideously sick of July in
town. I know Mabel will never forgive me, but I must risk it."

Mabel was the young man's sister, and the friendship between the two was
a perpetual joke. As a small girl she had been wont to con eagerly her
brother's cricketing achievements, for George had been a famous
cricketer, and annually went crazy with excitement at the Eton and
Harrow match. She exercised a maternal care over him, and he stood in
wholesome fear of her and ordered his doings more or less at her
judgment. Now she was married, but she still supervised her tall
brother, and the victim made no secret of the yoke.

Suddenly Arthur jumped to his feet. "I say, what about Lewis Haystoun?
He is home now, somewhere in Scotland. Have you heard a word about
him?"

"He has never written," groaned George, but he took out a pocket-book
and shook therefrom certain newspaper cuttings. "The people I employ
sent me these about him to-day." And he laid them out on his knee.

The first of them was long, and consisted of a belated review of Mr.
Haystoun's book. George, who never read such things, handed it to