ience of money-borrowers, that your
'last chance' is the man who is to accommodate you; but we are always
astonished, nevertheless; and Harry was, when notes to the amount of the
largest sum named by him were placed in his hand by one whom he looked
upon as the last to lend.

'What a trump you are, Harrington!' was all he could say; and then he was
for hurrying Evan into the house, to find pen and paper, and write down a
memorandum of the loan: but Evan insisted upon sparing him the trouble,
though Harry, with the admirable scruples of an inveterate borrower,
begged hard to be allowed to bind himself legally to repay the money.

''Pon my soul, Harrington, you make me remember I once doubted whether
you were one of us--rather your own fault, you know!' said Harry. 'Bury
that, won't you?'

''Till your doubts recur,' Evan observed; and Harry burst out, 'Gad, if
you weren't such a melancholy beggar, you'd be the jolliest fellow I
know! There, go after Rosey. Dashed if I don't think you're ahead of
Ferdinand, long chalks. Your style does for girls. I like women.'

With a chuckle and a wink, Harry swung-off. Evan had now to reflect that
he had just thrown away part of the price of his bondage to Tailordom;
the mention of Rose filled his mind. Where was she? Both were seeking one
another. Rose was in the cypress walk. He saw the star-like figure up the
length of it, between the swelling tall dark pillars, and was hurrying to
her, resolute not to let one minute of deception blacken further the soul
that loved so true a soul. She saw him, and stood smiling, when the
Countess issued, shadow-like, from a side path, and declared that she
must claim her brother for a few instants. Would her sweet Rose pardon
her? Rose bowed coolly. The hearts of the lovers were chilled, not that
they perceived any malice in the Countess, but their keen instincts felt
an evil fate.

The Countess had but to tell Evan that she had met the insolvent in
apples, and recognized him under his change of fortune, and had no doubt
that at least he would amuse the company. Then she asked her brother the
superfluous question, whether he loved her, which Evan answered
satisfactorily enough, as he thought; but practical ladies require
proofs.

'Quick,' said Evan, seeing Rose vanish, 'what do you want? I'll do
anything.'

'Anything? Ah, but this will be disagreeable to you.'

'Name it at once. I promise beforehand.'

The Countess wanted Evan to ask Andre