"Thank you, Tom; I should not care undergoing any mortification."
"Oh, no occasion for mortification that I can see," said Tom Grigson, cheerily. "There's no mortification in doing what is right, I think; and you are right in this, old fellow."
"Thank you heartily, Tom," said John, warmly. "Then we'll turn back, and I'll take my place for the Tally-ho, and then go and pack up a few things for the journey."
"But, I say John," said his friend presently, as they were emerging into the High Street, "suppose things shouldn't turn out as you wish to make them; what then?"
"I would rather not think about it," quoth John. "But now, can I do anything for you with Mr. Richard about that bill of Dry's?"
"Thank you, John; no, I think not; I fancy you have as much on your hands already as you can well manage," replied Tom Grigson, with a merry laugh.
And then presently they reached Queen's, and each went to his own rooms.
"As good a fellow as ever lived, and as honourable a man as ever breathed; and his honour will undo him. If he doesn't marry S. Wilson after all, I'll be—carbonadoed. There! Shall I go after him, and tell him so? No, I don't think I will."
