“I’ll be there, old boy, only let me know the time.”
“From seven to about a quarter or twenty minutes after. I’m sure not to be later than that.”
“I’m on. Will be there at seven without fail. Now I’ll be off; but, I say, keep yourself quiet, and don’t have any more shindies with the women.”
“Oh no; that’ll be all right,” replied Peace, with a laugh. “Don’t you bother yourself about my domestic affairs. Good-bye for the present. You won’t forget the appointment?”
“Not I—t’aint likely.”
Bill Rawton took his departure.
Peace returned to his little parlour, and began scraping away at his violin.
Presently Willie Ward came in and took up the guitar, and they played several duets.
Mrs. Peace, who had been in the kitchen below endeavouring to console Mrs. Thompson, shortly after this presented herself.
“Ah! it’s you, eh?” cried our hero. “Well, what about that beauty? Wants to go out again, I suppose, to make as much mischief as possible.”