These debts of
yours--will you tell me, are they `debts of honour,' falsely so-called?"

"Only twenty pounds. The rest is due partly to Patrick the tailor and
others for goods, and partly to Tom Rookwood for money I borrowed of
him."

"How much to Tom Rookwood?"

"Twenty pounds."

"I will see what I can do with him," said Mr Marshall, thoughtfully.
"If these Rookwoods are in no wise dragged into the plot, so that they
have no land escheated, nor fines to pay, then I think he can afford to
wait for his money--better, very like, than the tradesfolk. But,
Aubrey, you must get another place. Bear with me if I ask you,--Could
you bring your pride down to serve in a shop?"

The young shapely head went up suddenly, as if in proud protest against
this most unacceptable proposal. Then it dropped again, and the cane
toyed with the plantain.

"I thought my pride was down," he said in a low voice? "but I see it
might be lowered yet further. Mr Marshall, I will try to humble myself
even to that, if it be needful."

Aubrey did not suspect that Mr Marshall had never come so near
respecting him as at that moment.

"Well," he said, quietly, "I will do what I can to help you. I will see
Tom Rookwood; and I know a bookseller in Oxford town to whom I could
speak for you if you wish it. The question for you at this moment is
not, What is easy and pleasant?--but, What is right? `_Facilis
descensus Averni_'--you know--`_sed revocare gradum_!' It is always
hard work turning back. There is a bitter cup to be drunk; and if you
would win back your lost self-respect--if you would bring help and
comfort to your grandmother in her old age--if you would light up the
lamp of joy where hitherto you have wrought darkness--nay, if you would
win a smile from the blessed lips which said `Father, forgive them' _for
you_--then, Aubrey Louvaine, be a man, and drink off that bitter
draught. You will find it sweeter afterwards than all the dainties you
have been searching after for so long."

Aubrey sat still and silent for some time, and his companion let him
alone to consider his ways. Mr Marshall was a wise man; and never gave
more strokes to a nail than were needful to drive it in. At last the
question came, in low, unsteady tones--

"Mr Marshall, did God send you up this road this afternoon?"

"I have no doubt He did, my friend, if anything I say or do can help you
to the right way. You see, I knew not of your being here, and He