"Not until I've extracted a promise from you, Charley, old fellow."
"And that is----? Look sharp, Gordon; I'm sleepy."
"And that is, that you'll come with me to-morrow to the Botanical Fête."
"To the--to the Botanical Fête! I? Ah, I see, poor Gordon! too much Guyon has made you mad."
"No, Charley, I'm serious. You know you're my best and dearest friend, the only real friend I have in the world--for my own people are like every body else's own people, full of themselves and not caring one rap for me--and I want you to see my--to see Miss Guyon, and to give me your real opinion about her."
"By which, of course, you'll be thoroughly influenced, and if I won't approve give her up at once. No, Gordon, I'm not much experienced in these things, but I do know enough not to commit myself in the way you suggest. However, I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll make half holiday for once, and go with you to the fête--reserving my opinion of the young lady to myself."
"Well, it's something to have got you to leave that old desk for an hour, to get you to look at trees and flowers instead of foolscap and red-tape. And as for Miss Guyon--well, you'll say something about her, I've no doubt."
"I'm not sorry this opportunity offered," said Charley Yeldham to himself as he was undressing. "I've not much curiosity; but I confess I'm anxious to see the girl who has so captivated Master Gordon--partly on her own account, and partly to see if I can trace in her manner any suspicion of a---- No; no woman could be bad enough to lay herself out to entrap a man at her father's desire! And besides, Gordon Frere's not worth snaring!"