"Oh, until we're married."
"Great Scott, man, surely you don't intend deserting your bride immediately after the marriage ceremony!"
"Not much," exclaimed O'Rourke, "but she could come, too."
Hemming stared, for he knew that many of his friend's jokes required a lot of looking at; and Smith, who was tidying the table, hid his smile in the duster.
"What have you been drinking?" inquired Hemming at last. O'Rourke made a movement as one awaking from a trance. He smiled foolishly.
"Forgive me," he said; "for a moment I quite forgot what sort of trips we used to indulge in. Of course it would never do to take Helen on jaunts like those."
"I wonder if you are old enough to take care of a wife," said his friend, severely.
When Hemming returned to his rooms late that evening, he was still undecided as to where he would go. O'Rourke was away at some sort of function. Hemming had been walking for more than an hour, aimlessly, but at a hard pace. As he dropped wearily into his chair, Smith entered, and handed him a paper from the table. It was a note from Stanley, written in red ink on the back of a laundry list. It ran as follows:
"Hurry 'round to my diggings as soon as you get this. I want you to meet my seafaring friend, who seems in a mood to honour me with a visit of some length. He is very droll, and looks as if he means to stay. I send this by our hall boy.
"Merrily yours,
"T. F. STANLEY."