He saw little of any one for the next few days except Millicent. His poor friend Mr John Jones called several times, but each time found him absent.
‘Your master is neglecting his business,’ he said sternly to Frank’s small clerk.
‘Got something pleasanter to attend to,’ said the youth with a wink. He was a sharp lad, and able to form his own opinions.
One day towards the end of the week, Mr Jones did succeed in catching his young friend, and, moreover, in smoking the whole of a long cigar in his society. ‘Look here, Abbot,’ he said, ‘what’s up with you? Are you going to be married?’
‘Yes,’ said Frank; ‘I am.’
‘Thought so,’ said Mr Jones. ‘When?’
‘Next Tuesday,’ answered Frank as laconically as his strange friend.
‘Girl got money?’
‘No; poorer than I am.’
‘That’s bad. Tell me all about it.’