should have to take leave of him--have to go and lie down and keep
quiet. His young friend might be trusted to answer for him, but he
hoped Mr. Morrow didn't expect great things even of his young
friend. His young friend, at this moment, looked at Neil Paraday
with an anxious eye, greatly wondering if he were doomed to be ill
again; but Paraday's own kind face met his question reassuringly,
seemed to say in a glance intelligible enough: "Oh I'm not ill,
but I'm scared: get him out of the house as quietly as possible."
Getting newspaper-men out of the house was odd business for an
emissary of Mr. Pinhorn, and I was so exhilarated by the idea of it
that I called after him as he left us: "Read the article in The
Empire and you'll soon be all right!"



CHAPTER V.



"Delicious my having come down to tell him of it!" Mr. Morrow
ejaculated. "My cab was at the door twenty minutes after The
Empire had been laid on my breakfast-table. Now what have you got
for me?" he continued, dropping again into his chair, from which,
however, he the next moment eagerly rose. "I was shown into the
drawing-room, but there must be more to see--his study, his
literary sanctum, the little things he has about, or other domestic
objects and features. He wouldn't be lying down on his study-
table? There's a great interest always felt in the scene of an
author's labours. Sometimes we're favoured with very delightful
peeps. Dora Forbes showed me all his table-drawers, and almost