I remained longer than was necessary, because I had something to say to
William which I knew he would misunderstand, and so I put off saying it.
But when he announced that it was time for him to return to London,--at
which his wife suddenly paled, so that he had to sign to her not to
break down,--I delivered the message.

"William," I said, "the head waiter asked me to say that you could take
a fortnight's holiday just now. Your wages will be paid as usual."

Confound them! William had me by the hand, and his wife was in tears
before I could reach the door.

"Is it your doing again, sir?" William cried.

"William!" I said, fiercely.

"We owe everything to you," he insisted. "The port wine--"

"Because I had no room for it in my cellar."

"The money for the nurse in London--"

"Because I objected to being waited on by a man who got no sleep."

"These lodgings--"

"Because I wanted to do something for my old nurse."

"And now, sir, a fortnight's holiday!"