well-appointed room, and telling an incredulous and envious Fullalove
Alley about it afterwards.

"I shall be very pleased, sir," he said, impressively.

"Come round on Tuesday," said his visitor. "I shall be at home then."

Mr. Wilks thanked him and, spurred on to hospitality, murmured something
about a glass of ale, and retired to the back to draw it. He came back
with a jug and a couple of glasses, and draining his own at a draught,
hoped that the example would not be lost upon his visitor. That astute
person, however, after a modest draught, sat still, anchored to the
half-empty glass.

"I'm expecting somebody to-night," said the ex-steward, at last.

"No doubt you have a lot of visitors," said the other, admiringly.

Mr. Wilks did not deny it. He eyed his guest's glass and fidgeted.

"Miss Nugent is coming," he said.

Instead of any signs of disorder and preparations for rapid flight, Mr.
Wilks saw that the other was quite composed. He began to entertain a
poor idea of Mr. Hardy's memory.

"She generally comes for a little quiet chat," he said.

"Indeed!"