Meanwhile; Hench got to work expeditiously and packed his scanty luggage, after paying Mrs. Tesk what he owed her. The ex-school-mistress was very sorry to lose him, not only from a financial point of view but because she really had a regard for him. Still, as she intimated, they were both leaves floating on the river of life, and the currents of circumstances were parting them. She hoped that he would enjoy himself and prosper wherever he was going, but if Fortune proved unkind, he was to remember that a refined abode always waited for him as a haven in adversity. All this and much more said Mrs. Tesk, who had a warm heart and hospitable nature. Hench was quite sorry to leave her, as he liked the quaint old lady and her odd ways. And just when Owain finished his business in her sanctum he emerged to run against Spruce, who looked more like a fashion-plate and less like a man than ever.
"Just got back," said the Nut airily; "had a topping time. Wish you had been with me, instead of wasting your sweetness on the desert air hereabouts."
"I was not going to waste it any longer," said Hench dryly. "I am leaving this house this afternoon."
"Oh, I say,"--Spruce looked disappointed and uneasy,--"for how long?"
"For ever! There is nothing to keep me here that I know of, and as I told you long ago, I am more or less of a bird of passage."
"What about Mademoiselle Zara?"
"Oh, that's all right; and may I remind you it's none of your business?"
"Well, don't get in a wax," protested Spruce amiably. "I never saw such a chap for jumping on a fellow."
"If you think so, you must be glad that I am going away."
"No, I'm not," confessed the Nut frankly. "You're a gentleman and so am I, and in this hole you're the only chap I can chum up with."