don't mention it here. The savages in this beastly place wouldn't
employ me, if they knew I had married a stage-player. Hullo! The
bottle's empty again. Ha! here's another bottle, full. I love a man who
has always got a full bottle to offer his friend. Shake hands. I say,
Mountjoy, tell me on your sacred word of honour, can you keep a secret?
My wife's secret, sir! Stop! let me look at you again. I thought I saw
you smile. If a man smiles at me, when I am opening my whole heart to
him, by the living jingo, I would knock that man down at his own table!
What? you didn't smile? I apologise. Your hand again; I drink your
health in your own good wine. Where was I? What was I talking about?"

Mountjoy carefully humoured his interesting guest.

"You were about to honour me," he said, "by taking me into your
confidence." Mr. Vimpany stared in tipsy bewilderment. Mountjoy tried
again in plainer language: "You were going to tell me a secret."

This time, the doctor grasped the idea. He looked round cunningly to
the door. "Any eavesdroppers?" he asked. "Hush! Whisper--this is
serious--whisper! What was it I was going to tell you? What was the
secret, old boy?"

Mountjoy answered a little too readily: "I think it related to Mrs.
Vimpany."

Mrs. Vimpany's husband threw himself back in his chair, snatched a
dirty handkerchief out of his pocket, and began to cry.

"Here's a false friend!" the creature whimpered. "Asks me to dinner,
and takes advantage of my dependent situation to insult my wife. The