One summer night, a few months after my marriage, I was seated by my own hearth smoking a last pipe and nodding over a novel, for my day's work had been an exhausting one. My wife had already gone upstairs, and the sound of the locking of the hall door some time before told me that the servants had also retired. I had risen from my seat and was knocking out the ashes of my pipe when I suddenly heard the clang of the bell. "Ah, Watson," said he, "I hoped that I might not be too late to catch you." "My dear fellow, pray come in." "With pleasure." "I shall be delighted if you will stay." "No." THE END