a living grave with Archie Weir at Hermiston.

To do him justice, he was no less surprised to be going than Archie was
to see him come; and he carried off his wonder with an infinitely better
grace.

"Well, here I am!" said he, as he alighted. "Pylades has come to
Orestes at last. By the way, did you get my answer? No? How very
provoking! Well, here I am to answer for myself, and that's better
still."

"I am very glad to see you, of course," said Archie. "I make you
heartily welcome, of course. But you surely have not come to stay, with
the Courts still sitting; is that not most unwise?"

"Damn the Courts!" says Frank. "What are the Courts to friendship and a
little fishing?"

And so it was agreed that he was to stay, with no term to the visit but
the term which he had privily set to it himself - the day, namely, when
his father should have come down with the dust, and he should be able to
pacify the bookseller. On such vague conditions there began for these
two young men (who were not even friends) a life of great familiarity
and, as the days drew on, less and less intimacy. They were together at
meal times, together o' nights when the hour had come for whisky-toddy;
but it might have been noticed (had there been any one to pay heed) that
they were rarely so much together by day. Archie had Hermiston to
attend to, multifarious activities in the hills, in which he did not
require, and had even refused, Frank's escort. He would be off
sometimes in the morning and leave only a note on the breakfast table to