tells me that you two have been to see Sir
Guy's look-out."

She was standing close to the Duke and whispered a word into his ear.
"You said you would call me Mabel."

"Yes, sir," said Silverbridge, "and I have made up my mind that Sir
Guy never stayed there very long in winter. It was awfully cold."

"I had furs on," said Mabel. "What a lovely spot it is, even in this
weather." Then dinner was announced. She had not been cold. She could
still feel the tingling heat of her blood as she had implored him to
love her.

Silverbridge felt that he must write to his brother by the first
post. The communication was of a nature that would bear no delay.
If his hands had been free he would himself have gone off to Auld
Reikie. At last he made up his mind. The first letter he wrote was
neither to Nidderdale nor to Gerald, but to Lord Percival himself.

DEAR PERCIVAL,

Gerald writes me word that he has lost to you at cards
L3,400, and he wants me to get him the money. It is a
terrible nuisance, and he has been an ass. But of course
I shall stand to him for anything he wants. I haven't
got L3,400 in my pocket, and I don't know any one who
has;--that is among our set. But I send you my I.O.U. for
the amount, and will promise to get you the money in two
months. I suppose that will be sufficient, and that you
will not bother Gerald any more about it.

Yours truly,

SILVERBRIDGE.

Then he copied this letter and enclosed the copy in another which he
wrote to his brother.

DEAR GERALD,

What an ass you have been! But I don't suppose you are
worse than I was at Doncaster. I will have nothing to do
with such people as Comfort and Criball. That is the sure
way to the D----! As for telling Moreton, that is only
a polite and roundabout way of telling the governor. He
would immediately ask the governor what was to be done.
You will see what I have done. Of course I must tell the
governor before the end of February, as I cannot get the
money in any other way. But that I will do. It does seem
hard upon him. Not that the money will hurt him much; but
that he would so like to have a steady-going son.

I suppose Percival won't make any bother about the I.O.U.
He'll be a fool if he does. I wouldn't kick him if I were
you,--unless he says anything very bad. You would be sure
to come to grief somehow. He is a beast.

Your affectionate Broth