rcles, and who had won the confidence of a popular favourite like
Adrien Leroy.

Those who had not been personally introduced to Jasper, had still heard
reports of his position, and looked after him with that half-envious air
which says so plainly:

"There goes the kind of prosperous, wealthy man I myself should like to
be."

Mr. Vermont strolled along, his face wreathed in a perpetual smirk of
recognition, his hat off half a dozen times a minute, acknowledging the
smiling glances accorded to him.

When he had nearly come to Hyde Park Gate, he was confronted by one of
the loungers--an old acquaintance of his--whose woe-begone countenance
seemed expressive of acute mental distress.

Jasper Vermont recognised him in spite of his altered
appearance--usually a very gay one--and stopped him.

"What, Beau!" he exclaimed with seemingly effusive warmth; "you here;
whatever have you been doing--committing murder? Or have you married in
haste, to repent of it at leisure?"

"Neither, my dear boy," answered the well-groomed young man--a captain
in the "Household" Guards--one of the fastest and most generally liked
fellows in town. "Neither, Vermont; but I have just come from the City."

"City of the Tombs!" drawled Jasper facetiously.

Captain Beaumont laughed, but rather mournfully.

"Yes," he said, "all my hopes are buried in that beastly place.' Really,
the County Council ought to put a notice over the west side of Temple
Bar monument instead of that heraldic beast: 'Abandon hope, all ye who
enter here,'"

Mr. Vermont laughed, in his usual quiet way.

"How's that? The City is good enough in its way. What have they been
doing to you; won't they lend you any more money?"

"Worse even than that," said the young spend-thrift; "they actually want
me to repay all that I owe them already, on short notice, with the usual
threats if I fail to comply within their time."

"Oh!" remarked Mr. Vermont simply; but his "oh" was full of meaning and
apparent sympathy for the misfortunes of his friend.

"Yes, that hard-hearted old skinflint, Harker--what a mean brute he is!
I should like to bury him, and would attend his funeral gladly to be
certain I had seen the last of him. He holds a pretty little tot-up in
the way of bills of mine; and I expected, naturally enough, when I call
on the firm, that they would renew them at the usual Shylock rates, and
I could try elsewhere for something to go on with."

"Yes," said Mr. Vermont