events an appreciative audience; laughter and applause broke forth very frequently.
“I’d forgot it was this kind o’ thing tonight,” said Hewett, when he could discover no vacant seat. “Do you care about it? No more don’t I; let’s go down into the readin'room.”
Downstairs they established themselves at their ease. John ordered two half-pints of ale,—the club supplied refreshment for the body as well as for the mind,—and presently he was more himself.
“How’s your wife?” inquired Joseph.
“Better, I hope?”
“I wish I could say so,” answered the other, shaking his head. “She hasn’t been up since Thursday. She’s bad, poor woman! she’s bad.”
Joseph murmured his sympathy, between two draughts of ale.
“Seen young Kirkwood lately?” Hewett asked, averting his eyes and assuming a tone of half-absent indifference.
“He’s gone away for his holiday; gone into
