When they parted in the park, Mr Whittlestaff trudged off to his own hotel, through the heat and sunshine. He walked quickly, and never looked behind him, and went as though he had fully accomplished his object in one direction, and must hurry to get it done in another. To Gordon he had left no directions whatever. Was he to be allowed to go down to Mary, or even to write her a letter? He did not know whether Mary had ever been told of this wonderful sacrifice which had been made on her behalf. He understood that he was to have his own way, and was to be permitted to regard himself as betrothed to her, but he did not at all understand what steps he was to take in the matter, except that he was not to go again to the diamond-fields. But Mr Whittlestaff hurried himself off to his hotel, and shut himself up in his own bedroom,—and when there, he sobbed, alas! like a child.

The wife whom he had won for himself was probably more valuable to him than if he had simply found her disengaged and ready to jump into his arms. She, at any rate, had behaved well. Mr Whittlestaff had no doubt proved himself to be an angel, perfect all round,—such a man as you shall not meet perhaps once in your life. But Mary, too, had so behaved as to enhance the love of any man who had been already engaged to her. As he thought of the whole story of the past week, the first idea that occurred to him was that he certainly had been present to her mind during the whole period of his absence. Though not a word had passed between them, and though no word of absolute love for each other had even been spoken before, she had been steady to him, with no actual basis on which to found her love. He had known, and she had been sure, and therefore she had been true to him. Of course, being a true man himself, he worshipped her all the more. Mr Whittlestaff was absolutely, undoubtedly perfect; but in Gordon\'s estimation Mary was not far off perfection. But what was he to do now, so that he might approach her?

He had pledged himself to one thing, and he must at once go to work and busy himself in accomplishing it. He had promised not to return to Africa; and he must at once see Mr Tookey, and learn whether that gentleman\'s friends would be allowed to go on with the purchase as arranged. He knew Poker & Hodge to be moneyed men, or to be men, at any rate, in command of money. If they would not pay him at once, he must look elsewhere for buyers; but the matter must be settled. Tookey had promised to come to his club this day, and there he would go and await his coming.

He went to his club, but the first person who came to him was Mr Whittlestaff. Mr Whittlestaff when he had left the park had determined never to see John Gordon again, or to see him only during that ceremony of the marriage, which it might be that he would even yet escape. All that was still in the distant future. Dim ideas as to some means of avoiding it flitted through his brain. But even though he might see Gordon on that terrible occasion, he need not speak to him. And it would have to be done then, and then only. But now another idea, certainly very vague, had found its way into his mind, and with the object of carrying it out, Mr Whittlestaff had come to the club. "Oh, Mr Whittlestaff, how do you do again?"

"I\'m much the same as I was before, thank you. There hasn\'t happened anything to improve my health."

"I hope nothing may happen to injure it."

"It doesn\'t much matter. You said something about some property you\'ve got in diamonds, and you said once that you must go out to look after it."

"But I\'m not going now. I shall sell my share in the mines. I am going to see a Mr Tookey about it immediately."

"Can\'t you sell them to me?"

"The diamond shares,—to you!"

"Why not to me? If the thing has to be done at once, of course you and I must trust each other. I suppose you can trust me?"

"Certainly I can."

"As I don\'t care much about it, whether I get what I buy or not, it does not much matter for me. But in truth, in such an affair as this I would trust you. Why should not I go in your place?"

"I don\'t think you are the man who ought to go there."

"I am too old? I\'m not a cripple, if you mean that. I don\'t see why I shouldn\'t go to the diamond-fields as well as a younger man."

"It is not about your age, Mr Whittlestaff; but I do not think you would be happy there."

"Happy! I do not know that my state of bliss here is very great. If I had bought your shares, as you call them, and paid money for them, I don\'t see why my happiness need stand in the way."

"You are a gentleman, Mr Whittlestaff."

"Well; I hope so."

"And of that kind that you would have your eyes picked out of your head before you had been there a week. Don\'t go. Take my word for it, that life will be pleasanter to you here than there, and that for you the venture would be altogether dangerous. Here is Mr Tookey." At this point of the conversation, Mr Tookey entered the hall-door, and some fashion of introduction took place between the two strangers. John Gordon led the way into a private room, and the two others followed him. "Here\'s a gentleman anxious to buy my shares, Tookey," said Gordon.

"What! the whole lot of the old Stick-in-the-Mud? He\'ll have to shell down some money in order to do that! If I were to be asked my opinion, I should say that the transaction was hardly one in the gentleman\'s way of business."

"I suppose an honest man may work at it," said Mr Whittlestaff.

"It\'s the honestest business I know out," said Fitzwalker Tookey; "but it does require a gentleman to have his eyes about him."

"Haven\'t I got my eyes?"

"Oh certainly, certainly," said Tookey; "I never knew a gentleman have them brighter. But there are eyes and eyes. Here\'s Mr Gordon did have a stroke of luck out there;—quite wonderful! But because he tumbled on to a good thing, it\'s no reason that others should. And he\'s sold his claim already, if he doesn\'t go himself,—either to me, or else to Poker & Hodge."

"I\'m afraid it is so," said John Gordon.

"There\'s my darling wife, who is going out with me, and who means to stand all the hardship of the hard work amidst those scenes of constant labour,—a lady who is dying to see her babies there. I am sure, sir, that Mr Gordon won\'t forget his promises to me and my wife."

"If you have the money ready."

"There is Mr Poker in a hansom cab outside, and ready to go with you to the bank at once, as the matter is rather pressing. If you will come with him, he will explain everything. I will follow in another cab, and then everything can be completed." John Gordon did make an appointment to meet Mr Poker in the city later on in the day, and then was left together with Mr Whittlestaff at the club.

It was soon decided that Mr Whittlestaff should give up all idea of the diamond-fields, and in so doing he allowed himself to be brought back to a state of semi-courteous conversation with his happy rival. "Well, yes; you may write to her, I suppose. Indeed I don\'t know what right I have to say that you may, or you mayn\'t. She\'s more yours than mine, I supp............