appeal to be
helped out in what he had come to say. And Wingrave knew very well
what it was. Nevertheless, he remained silent--politely questioning.
Barrington sat down a little heavily. He was not so carefully dressed
as usual; he looked older, his appearance lacked altogether that air of
buoyant prosperity which was wont to inspire his friends and creditors
with confidence.

"I've been a fool, Wingrave," he said. "You showed me how to make a
little money a few weeks ago, and it seemed so easy that I couldn't
resist having a try by myself, only on rather a larger scale. I
lost! Then I went in again to pull myself round, and I lost again. I
lost--more than I can easily raise before settlement."

"I am sorry," Wingrave said politely. "It is very unwise to meddle in
things you know so little about."

For a moment the worm turned. Barrington rose to his feet, and with
a deep flush upon his cheeks moved towards the door. But his spark of
genuine feeling died out almost as soon as it had been kindled. Outside
that door was ruin; within, as he very well knew, lay his only chance of
salvation. He set down his hat, and turned round.

"Wingrave," he said, "will you lend me some money?"

Wingrave looked at him with upraised eyebrows.

"I," he remarked, "lend you money? Why should I?"

"Heaven knows," Barrington answered. "It is you who have chosen to
seek us out. You have forced upon us something which has at least the
semblance of friendship. There is no one else whom I could ask. It isn't
only this damned Stock Exchange transaction. Everything has gone wrong
with me for years. If I could have kept going till next July, I should
have been all right. I have made a little success in the House, and I
am promised a place in the next government. I know it seems queer that
I should be asking you, but it is that--or ruin. Now you know how things
are with me."

"You are making," Wingrave said quietly, "a mistake. I have not
pretended or given the slightest evidence of any friendship for
yourself."

Barrington looked at him with slowly mounting color.

"You mean--"

"Precisely," Wingrave interrupted. "I do not know what I might or might
not do for Lady Ruth. I have not considered the subject. It has not, in
fact, been presented to me."

"It is the same thing," Barrington declared hoarsely.

"Pardon me--it is not," Wingrave answered.

"What I ask you to do," Barrington said, "I ask on behalf of my wife."

"As an ambas