FRAYNE.

What did you do?

QUEX.

Came to town by the first train in the morning—­drove straight off to Richmond, to my pious aunt.  Found her in bed with asthma; I got her up.  And I almost went down on my knees to her, Chick.

FRAYNE.

Not really?

QUEX.

I did—­old man as I am! no, I’m not old.

FRAYNE.

Forty-eight.  Ha, ha!  I’m only forty-five.

QUEX.

But you’ve had malaria—­

FRAYNE.

Dry up, Harry!

QUEX.

So we’re quits.  Well, down on my marrow-bones I went, metaphorically, and there and then I made my vows to old aunt Julia, and craved her help; and she dropped tears on me, Chick, like a mother.  And the result was that within a month I became engaged to Miss Eden.

FRAYNE.

The young lady soon waived her—­

QUEX.

[Getting off the table.] I beg your pardon—­the young lady did nothing of the kind.  But with aunt Julia’s aid I showed ’em all that it was a genuine case of done with the old life—­a real, genuine instance. [Balancing upon the back of the chair.] I’ve sold my house in Norfolk Street.

FRAYNE.

You’ll want one.

QUEX.

[Gravely.] Not that one—­for Muriel. [Brightly.] And I’m living sedately at Richmond, under aunt Julia’s wing.  Muriel is staying at Fauncey Court too, just now; she’s up from Norfolk for the Season, chaperoned by Mrs. Jack. [Sitting, nursing his knee, with a sigh of content.] Ah! after all, it’s very pleasant to be a good boy.

FRAYNE.

When is it to take place?

QUEX.

At the end of the year; assuming, of course—­

FRAYNE.

That you continue to behave prettily? [QUEX assents, with a wave of the hand.] The slightest lapse on your part—?

QUEX.

Impossible.

FRAYNE.

But it would—?

QUEX.

[A little impatiently.] Naturally.

FRAYNE.

Well, six months pass quickly—­everywhere but on the West Coast of
Africa.

QUEX.

And then—­you shall be my best man, Chick, if you’re still home.

FRAYNE.

[Rising.] Hah!  I never thought—­

QUEX.

[Rising.] No; I who always laughed at marriage as a dull depravity permitted to the respectable classes!  I who always maintained that man’s whole duty to woman—­meaning his mistresses—­that a man’s duty to a woman is liberally discharged when he has made a settlement on her, or stuck her into his will! [Blowing the ideas from him.] Phugh!

[He goes to the little table, and examines the objects upon it.

FRAYNE.

[Following him.] Talking of—­ah—­mistresses I suppose you’ve—?

QUEX.