"DOROTHY WILLOWS."
Mr. Wycherly read the note twice very carefully, folded it, put it back in the envelope and, without waiting to finish his port, went for his hat. He crossed the road. Mr. Gordon, seated as usual at his open window with Gantry Bill in attendance, saw him coming, turned extremely red and went himself to open the door, without waiting for his visitor to knock.
Jane-Anne, seated at her studies in the parlour, also saw Mr. Wycherly's pilgrimage across the road, and was filled with satisfaction that her debt was to be so speedily discharged.
"Are you Mr. Gordon?" Mr. Wycherly asked as the door was opened before he could knock.
"I am; will you come in, sir?"
Mr. Wycherly accepted the invitation and came in. The experience caused his heart to beat a little faster. It was so many years since he had been in an undergraduate's room. The past came back with a rush. What a lot of water had flowed under Magdalen Bridge since those dear, far off, happy, and, afterwards, most miserable days.
"Won't you sit down, sir?" young Gordon said hospitably.
Mr. Wycherly sat down. "I come," he said, "to discharge a debt," and laid a shilling on the table beside him, "and I must thank you for carrying home the eggs for my ward."
"It's very good of you," the young man mumbled, looking much confused; "it was nothing really; you see, my dog was the cause of the accident. I was bound to replace the eggs."
"My ward begged me to pay her debt at once. That is my reason for invading you at such an unseasonable hour, but since you have received me so hospitably, I wonder if you would further allow me to ask you a question, Mr. Gordon?"