managing this affair, not you. Now, you go round to-morrow afternoon and
tell them you're off. D'ye hear? D'ye think I'm made of money? And
what do you mean by making such a fuss of that fool, Charlie Hills? You
know he is after Bella."

He walked the rest of the way home in indignant silence, and, after
giving minute instructions to Mr. Kemp next morning at breakfast, went
off to work in a more cheerful frame of mind. Mr. Kemp was out when he
returned, and after making his toilet he followed him to Mrs. Bradshaw's.

To his annoyance, he found Mr. Hills there again; and, moreover, it soon
became clear to him that Mr. Kemp had said nothing about his approaching
departure. Coughs and scowls passed unheeded, and at last in a
hesitating voice, he broached the subject himself. There was a general
chorus of lamentation.

"I hadn't got the heart to tell you," said Mr. Kemp. "I don't know when
I've been so happy."

"But you haven't got to go back immediate," said Mrs. Bradshaw.

"To-morrow," said Mr. Wright, before the old man could reply.
"Business."

"Must you go," said Mrs. Bradshaw.

Mr. Kemp smiled feebly. "I suppose I ought to," he replied, in a
hesitating voice.

"Take my tip and give yourself a bit of a holiday before you go back,"