In a moment they were all shaking each other’s hand off, and good-fellowship was streaming from every eye.
“Come over to my rooms, all of you,” gurgled Teddy, “and have a drink.”
“With pleasure, my boy,” said Trent. “But native rudeness will compel me to drink and run. I am off for Newport—”
“Newport!” cried three voices.
“Yes; anything strange in that? I’m going on vital business connected with the coming election.”
“This is a coincidence!” exclaimed Boswell, with the appreciation of the romanticist. “Why, we are all going to Newport. Dedham in search of health, Severance of pleasure, and I of a fortune—only the old mummy is always making out her cheques, but never passes them in. Well, I hope we’ll see a lot of each other when we get there.”
“Oh, of course,” said Severance, hastily. “We will have many another game of polo together.”
“Well,” said Dedham, “come over to my rooms now and drink to the success of our separate quests.”
