spoken the last few words of his story Ernest had turned white as a sheet, and was leaning against the railings.

`John,' said my hero, gasping for breath, `are you sure of what you say-are you quite sure you really married her?'

`Of course I am,' said John, `I married her before the registrar at Letchbury on the 15th of August, 1851.

`Give me your arm,' said Ernest, `and take me into Piccadilly, and put me into a cab, and come with me at once, if you can spare time, to Mr. Overton's at the Temple.'

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