Our visitors were still drying themselves by the fire, and overwhelmed me with their thanks when I entered with Mrs. Deeks. Maxwell and I then made a hollow feint of having important business in a man's chambers in the immediate neighbourhood, which would detain us half-an-hour or so, and left the two ladies and Mrs. Deeks to their devices.
It was still pouring with rain, so Maxwell and I sat on the bottom step of the staircase, and took counsel together.
"Now, Ted, my boy, what are we to do?"
"This," said Maxwell, who had a turn for stating cases, "is a case of peculiar delicacy. Here we have two bachelors in chambers, to whom, in the dead of night, enter two sopping females—one middle-aged and not otherwise remarkable; the other very young, and I think I may add interesting."
"Decidedly interesting," said I.
"And decidedly interesting. They come round with an account of themselves, which on the one hand, may be as true as gospel, and, on the other, may be a story of a cock and a bull."
"That's not likely," said I.
"I did not say it was likely. I am not dealing with probabilities, I am dealing with facts. Whether it is true or not, the fact remains that two sopping females have quartered themselves on two dry bachelors."
"One dry bachelor and one wet one," was my rather captious amendment.
"Now, don't interrupt me unnecessarily; they were both quite dry when the women entered. The fact that
