Mr. Kemp, returning home at midnight—­in a cab—­found the young man waiting up for him, and, taking a seat on the edge of the table, listened unmoved to a word-picture of himself which seemed interminable.  He was only moved to speech when Mr. Wright described him as a white-whiskered jezebel who was a disgrace to his sex, and then merely in the interests of natural science.

“Don’t you worry,” he said, as the other paused from exhaustion.  “It won’t be for long now.”

“Long?” said Mr. Wright, panting.  “First thing to-morrow morning you have a telegram calling you back—­a telegram that must be minded.  D’ye see?”

“No, I don’t,” said Mr. Kemp, plainly.  “I’m not going back, never no more—­never!  I’m going to stop here and court Mrs. Bradshaw.”

Mr. Wright fought for breath.  “You—­you can’t!” he gasped.

“I’m going to have a try,” said the old man.  “I’m sick of going to sea, and it’ll be a nice comfortable home for my old age.  You marry Bella, and I’ll marry her mother.  Happy family!”

Mr. Wright, trembling with rage, sat down to recover, and, regaining his composure after a time, pointed out almost calmly the various difficulties in the way.

“I’ve thought it all out,” said Mr. Kemp, nodding.  “She mustn’t know I’m not rich till after we’re married; then I ’ave a letter from New Zealand saying I’ve lost all my money.  It’s just as easy to have that letter as the one you spoke of.”

“And I’m to find you money to play the rich uncle with till you’re married, I suppose,” said Mr. Wright, in a grating voice, “and then lose Bella when Mrs. Bradshaw finds you’ve lost your money?”

Mr. Kemp scratched his ear.  “That’s your lookout,” he said, at last.

“Now, look here,” said Mr. Wright, with great determination.  “Either you go and tell them that you’ve been telegraphed for—­cabled is the proper word—­or I tell them the truth.”

“That’ll settle you then,” said Mr. Kemp.

“No more than the other would,” retorted the young man, “and it’ll come cheaper.  One thing I’ll take my oath of, and that is I won’t give you another farthing; but if you do as I tell you I’ll give you a quid for luck.  Now, think it over.”

Mr. Kemp thought it over, and after a vain attempt to raise the promised reward to five pounds, finally compounded for two, and went off to bed after a few stormy words on selfishness and ingratitude.  He declined to speak to his host at breakfast next morning, and accompanied him in the evening with the air of a martyr going to the stake.  He listened in stony silence to the young man’s instructions, and only spoke when the latter refused to pay the two pounds in advance.

The news, communicated in halting accents by Mr. Kemp, was received with flattering dismay.  Mrs. Bradshaw refused to believe her ears, and it was only after the information had been repeated and confirmed by Mr. Wright that she understood.