auntie; it is one o'clock."

"Well, young man," said De Burgh, who was not sorry to be interrupted,
as he felt he was treading dangerous ground, and with instinctive tact
endeavored always to keep friends with Katherine's pets, "I have brought
you a present, if auntie will allow you to keep it."

"What is it?--a box of tools, real tools? I do so want a box of tools!
But auntie is afraid I will cut myself."

"No; it's a St. Bernard puppy that promises to turn out a fine dog."

"Oh, thank you! thank you! that _is_ nice. I don't think you are a bit
like the wicked uncle now. May I go and fetch it now, this moment?"

"Not till after dinner, dear."

"Oh, isn't it jolly! A real St. Bernard dog!"--capering about. "You
_are_ a nice man!"

"What _are_ you making such a noise for, Cis?" exclaimed his mother
coming in, looking admirably well, fresh, becomingly dressed. "Go away,
dear, and be made tidy for your dinner. Well, Mr. De Burgh, I never
dreamed of your arriving so early. Did you get up in the middle of the
night?"

"Not exactly. The fact is, I must drive over to Revelstoke late this
evening and catch the mail train. I have a command to dine with the
Baron to-morrow, to talk over some business of importance, and dared not
refuse, as you can imagine. The everlasting old tyrant has been quite
amiable to me of late."

"Then you'll not be here to escort me back to town, and I hate
travelling alone!" cried Mrs. Ormonde.

"Unfortunately no," said De Burgh. "But I have a piece of news for you
that will freeze the marrow in your bones: Errington is completely
ruined."

"Impossible!" cried both his hearers at once.

"It's too true, I assure you. When, after the old man's death, he began
to look into things with his solicitor, he was startled to find certain
deficiencies. Then the head clerk, the manager, who had everything in
his hands--bossed the show, in short--disappeared, and on further
examination it proved that the whole concern was a mere shell, out of
which this scoundrel had sucked the capital. There was an awful amount
of debt to other houses, several of which would have come down, and
ruined the unfortunates connected with them, if Errington had not come
forward and sacrificed almost all he possessed to retrieve the credit of
his name. He says he ought to have undertaken the risks as well as
reaped the profit of the concern. Garston Hall is advertised for sale;
so is the house in Berkley Square; his stud