"No; Parker wouldn't allow it."

"Well," observed William, with another yawn, which bade fair to expose the
veritable soul of him, "I d'know how ye stand it. It's closte on eleven
o'clock. Good-night."

John went up the steps, singing aloud:

"For to-night we'll merry, merry be,
For to-night we'll merry, merry be,"

and stopped on the sagging platform at the top of the stairs and gave the
moon good-night with a wave of the hand and friendly laughter. At that it
suddenly struck him that he was twenty-nine years of age; that he had
laughed a great deal that evening; that he had laughed and laughed over
things not in the least humorous, like an excited schoolboy making his
first formal call; that he had shaken hands with Miss Briscoe when he left
her, as if he should never see her again; that he had taken Miss
Sherwood's hand twice in one very temporary parting; that he had shaken
the judge's hand five times, and William's four!

"Idiot!" he cried. "What has happened to me?" Then he shook his fist at
the moon and went in to work--he thought.




CHAPTER VII