ilton, warmly.

"Thank ye, Hilt dear. That does me good," she said, drawing away her
hands and beginning to wipe her eyes. "I always felt that I could trust
to you if I had a spill. Tilborough always used to say: `If you're in
any trouble, go to dear old Hilt, unless it's money matters; and in them
don't trust him, for he's a perfect baby.'"

"Did Lord Tilborough say that?" cried Sir Hilton, frowning.

"Yes, old fellow," sighed the lady; "and it's quite true. There, don't
look black, Hilty, dear old man. You know you ruined yourself, and so
you would anyone else who trusted you with money."

"Lady Tilborough!" cried Sir Hilton, indignantly.

"Stop that, dear boy. No stilts. Be honest. You know it's true.
Here, sit down and listen. I want your help."

"Hadn't you better go to some other friend?" said Sir Hilton, sinking
back in a chair at some distance, crossing his legs, and kicking the
uppermost one up and down angrily. "Dr Granton, for instance."

"You leave Jack Granton out of the case, stupid. He wants to marry me,
though he has never said so. He's a thoroughly good fellow; but, of
course, I couldn't go to him, even if he could help me, and he can't."

"How can I, Lady Tilborough?"

"Hetty!" said the lady, sternly.

"Well, Hetty, then."

"That's better, Hilt, old man. Here, I'll tell you directly. Look at
me."

She paused to fight down a passion of hysterical laughter.

"My dear little woman!" said Sir Hilton, springing up.

"Keep away! Don't touch me!" cried his visitor.

"Have a glass of wine--some brandy?"

"No, no; no, no! I shall be better directly. There, did you ever see
such a silly woman? That's got the better of it. If I hadn't let
myself go then I believe I should have had a fit."

"Ha! You quite frightened me. Now then, Hetty, old lady, what's the
matter?"

"That's our old friend Hilt talking like himself again," said the
visitor, with a sigh of relief. "There, I'm better now, ready to take
every obstacle that comes in my way. Hilt, old man, a horrible
disaster."

"Yes? Yes?" cried Sir Hilton, turning white, as if he already saw the
shadow of what was to come.

"Your dear old mare."

"Not dead?" cried Sir Hilton, wildly.

"No, no, no; but it's as bad. She was to run for the cup to-day."

"Yes, yes; I know."

"Thought you had done thinking of such things."

"I have--I haven't--oh, for goodness' sake, woman, go on! She hasn't
been got at?"

"Not