then a smile spread over his face; a blush accompanied it, and proclaimed George's sense of delicious wickedness. I turned on him.
'Out with it!' said I.
'It's nothing. Don't be a fool!' said George.
'Where did you get that rose?' I asked.
'This rose?' he repeated, fondling the blossom. 'It was given to me.'
Upon this I groaned—and I still consider that I had good reason for my action. It was the groan of a moralist.
'They've asked me to stay at The Towers next vac.,' said George, glancing at me out of the corner of an immoral eye. Perhaps he thought it too immoral, for he added, 'It's all right, Sam.'
I believe that I have as much self-control as most people, but at this point I chuckled.
'What the deuce are you laughing at?' asked George.
I made no answer, and he went on,—
'You never told me what a—what she was like, Sam. Wanted to keep it to yourself, you old dog!'
'George—George—George!' said I. 'You go up to-morrow?'
'Yes, confound it!'
'And term lasts two months?'
'Yes—hang it!'
'All is well,' said I, crossing my legs. 'There is more virtue in two months than in Ten Commandments.'
George regarded me with a dispassionate air.
