brightest smile as he grasped my hand.

"Come to-morrow by the same train," said he, naming station, line,
and hour; "unless I telegraph, all will be ready and you shall be
met. You may rely on reasonable charges. As to the fishing, go
up-stream - to the right when you strike the beck - and you'll find
a good pool or two. I may have to go to Lancaster the day after
to-morrow, but I shall give you a call when I get back."

With that we parted, as good friends as ever. I observed that my
regret at losing him was shared by the boots, who stood beside me
on the steps as his hansom rattled off.

"I suppose Mr. Rattray stays here always when he comes to town?"
said I.

"No, sir," said the man, "we've never had him before, not in my time;
but I shouldn't mind if he came again." And he looked twice at the
coin in his hand before pocketing it with evident satisfaction.

Lonely as I was, and wished to be, I think that I never felt my
loneliness as I did during the twenty-four hours which intervened
between Rattray's departure and my own. They dragged like wet days
by the sea, and the effect was as depressing. I have seldom been
at such a loss for something to do; and in my idleness I behaved
like a child, wishing my new friend back again, or myself on the
railway with my new friend, until I blushed for the beanstalk growth
of my regard for him, an utter stranger, and a younger man. I am
less ashamed of it now: he had come into my dark life like a lamp,
and his going left a darkness deeper than before.