tunned.

"There, Sir Richard, don't let's make a fuss and a lot of unpleasantry
about a trumpery little amount like that, when it is all so easy for
you."

"I say I've never had the money. Go to Mr Mark Frayne."

"But don't you see as that's as good as saying he's been a-swindlin' of
me? And if I goes to my lawyer and lays it all before him, he'll be for
putting it in court, or p'raps worse; and it would go very hard on Mr
Mark. I'm afraid they wouldn't treat it as if it were a debt; they
might say--"

"Silence!"

"That's what I says, sir. His father a parson, too; and it wouldn't do
Mr Draycott no good. Hadn't you better sign?"

"Without seeing my cousin first and making him explain? No. Take away
your papers at once."

"To my lawyers, sir?"

Richard hesitated.

"No," he said at last. "I'll see my cousin, and bring him on to you."

"Ah! Now that's talking sensible, sir. We can settle it, of course.
Why, it would be such a mad thing to go to lawyers and make expenses,
and have a reg'lar trouble, when your name on three bits of paper would
save both of you from unpleasantry."

"Both of us?" cried Richard.

"Well, yes, sir, perhaps; for there's no knowing what people might say.
They can be tidy hard on anyone as won't pay when he can."

"That will do!" cried Richard angrily. "I have told you that I will see
my cousin."

"Ve--ry good, Sir Richard," said the tailor, carefully doubling up his
slips of paper. "But hadn't you better sign now, and see him after?"

"No."

"Well, sir, you know best; but if it was my case, and I hadn't had the
cash, I should sign, and then go and give my cousin the howdaciousest
hiding he ever had. That's better than sending him to prison and before
a judge. I wish you good-morning, sir--I suppose I ought to have said
Sir Richard Frayne. I shall be at home all day to-morrow, sir,
a-waiting on you."

CHAPTER TWO.

IN HOT BLOOD.

"Yes, and you'll have to wait," cried Richard Frayne, as the door closed
on the man, and he listened to the departing steps as he involuntarily
crossed to the stand, picked up his flute, and rearranged the music, but
only to throw it down angrily and replace his instrument.

"The scoundrel!" he cried. "Here, I must have this out at once."

He was no longer the quiet, dreamy-looking musician, but full of angry
energy; and in this spirit he went straight to his cousin's room,
knocked, and went in; but the place was empty.

"S