Hotel,--Street, Strand."

I took my knapsack from him, more surprised at such a breach of good
manners in a young gentleman who knew life so well, than I should have
been at a similar error on the part of Mr. Peacock. He made no apology,
but nodded farewell, and stretched himself at full length on the bench.
Mr. Peacock, now absorbed in a game of patience, vouchsafed no return to
my parting salutation, and in another moment I was alone on the high-
road. My thoughts turned long upon the young man I had left; mixed with
a sort of instinctive compassionate foreboding of an ill future for one
with such habits and in such companionship, I felt an involuntary
admiration, less even for his good looks than his ease, audacity, and
the careless superiority he assumed over a comrade so much older than
himself.

The day twas far gone when I saw the spires of a town at which I
intended to rest for the night. The horn of a coach behind made me turn
my head, and as the vehicle passed me, I saw on the outside Mr. Peacock,
still struggling with a cigar,--it could scarcely be the same,--and his
young friend stretched on the roof amongst the luggage, leaning his
handsome head on his hand, and apparently unobservant both of me and
every one else.




CHAPTER V.


I am apt--judging egotistically, perhaps, from my own experience-to