"Oh, yes!" replied Roger, hurriedly, "perfectly. I suffer a good deal from sleeplessness."
"You should try—"
"Spolger's Soother, I suppose?"
"No," said Jackson, solemnly, "I never recommend that to my friends. You should try morphia. Why, what's the matter?"
"Nothing," answered Roger, faintly, for he had started violently at the mention of the drug, "only I'm rather nervous."
"You've been overworking, I suppose," said Mr. Marson, looking at him keenly; "burning the midnight oil."
"No, indeed! I've been on a walking tour."
"Very healthy exercise," said Mr. Spolger, approvingly. "I can't indulge in it myself because I've a tendency to varicose veins. What part of the country were you walking in?"
"Down Winchester way," replied Roger, raising his eyes suddenly and looking at Mr. Marson steadily.
"Oh, indeed!" answered that gentleman, with a start; "then I suppose you were near Jarlchester."