“Toby,” he burst out at length, “let me think this over I can’t possibly decide at once.  The notion is absolutely new to me; I must roll it about, and examine it on all sides.”

Mr. Liversedge cheerfully agreed, and, after a little more talk, he went his way to business, leaving Denzil alone in the snuggery.  There sat the young man in deep but troubled meditation.  He sat for nearly an hour.  Then his sister came in.

“Denzil, you are wanted.  Mr. Wykes wishes to see you.  Shall I send him here?”

“Mr. Wykes!  What about, I wonder?  Yes, let him come.”

A clumping was heard without, and the bright face of the Institute’s Secretary, so strongly in contrast with his wretched body, presented itself in the doorway.  Quarrier received him with a friendly consideration due rather to pity than to any particular interest in the man himself.  He placed him in a comfortable chair, and waited in attentive attitude for an explanation of the call.  Mr. Wykes lost no time in making known his business; he told what had happened at the Institute, and respectfully begged for Mr. Quarrier’s aid in averting disappointment on the next evening.

“I am sure, sir, that your appearance on our platform would give very general pleasure.  I should have time to post announcements here and there.  We should have a splendid hall.”

“The deuce!  But, Mr. Wykes, it is no such simple matter to prepare a lecture in four-and-twenty hours.  What am I to talk about?”

“Any subject, sir, that would be of interest to a wide-awake audience.  If I might suggest, there are your travels, for instance.  And I understand that you are deeply conversant with the Northern literatures; I am sure something”——­

“Pardon me.  I hardly think I should care to go so far away for a theme.”

The Secretary heard this with pleasure.

“All the better, Sir!  Any subject of the day; nothing could be more acceptable.  You probably know our position at the Institute.  In practice, we are something like a Liberal Club.  You have heard that the other party are going to start a Society of their own?”

“I have—­a Society with an imbecile Dame.”  He pondered.  “Suppose I were to talk about ’The Position of Woman in our Time’?”

“Capital, Mr. Quarrier!  Couldn’t be better, sir!  Do permit me to announce it at once!”

“It’s rather a ticklish responsibility I’m undertaking—­but—­ very well, I will do my best, Mr. Wykes.  Who is chairman?”

“Mr. William Glazzard, sir.”

“Ho ho!  All right; I’ll turn up to time.  Eight o’clock, I suppose?  Evening dress, or not?  Oh, of course, if it’s usual; I didn’t know your custom.”

Mr. Wykes did not linger.  Left alone again, Denzil walked about in excited mood.  At length, with a wave of the arm which seemed to announce a resolution, he went to the drawing-room.  His sister was reading there in solitude.