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The jokes about the "infallible system" had all been let off, and my ears were no longer greeted with the "going, going, gone," of an auctioneer, when Peter came in with his tempting proposal to me.

"Jack," he said, his eyes beaming with the anticipated pleasure, "I'm going to treat myself to a little holiday."

"Well, Peter, you have my permission; take care of yourself. Remember you have given hostages to fortune," I replied.

"It is too bad of you to be always reminding me that I am married, as if that fact is not ever patent to me; just as if a certain young lady would permit me to forget it."

"I would not have mentioned the pleasant bond, you may be assured, without a good reason."

"Stuff and nonsense! What reason?"

"You have not been so long married, and already I begin to notice a return of some of your former levity. You have commenced to give back with interest the glances of a pretty girl as of yore. What was that you were whispering to the brunette you met at Regent Circus last Friday—no appointment? Fie, Peter, what would your charming little woman say?"