r Thomas that giving handsome presents with
another's money was an objectionable habit. Thomas received a large,
possibly too large an allowance. He must exercise self-denial, if he
wished to make presents. His quarterly allowance would be paid as
usual next Christmas, and not a minute before. There would be time
then to reconsider the propriety of giving young Desmond a suitable
gift. . . .

Common sense told Beaumont-Greene to show this letter to Scaife and
Lovell. But he saw the Demon's derisive grin, and recoiled from it.

At this moment temptation seized him relentlessly. Beaumont-Greene
never resisted temptation. For fun, so he put it, he would write the
sort of letter which his father ought to have written, and which would
have put him at his ease. It ran thus--

"MY DEAR THOMAS,

"No doubt you will want to give some leaving presents, and a spread or
two. I should like my son to do the thing handsomely. You know better
than I how much this will cost, but I am prepared to send you, say
twenty-five or thirty pounds for such a purpose. Or, you can have the
bills sent to me.

"With love,

"Your affectionate father,

"GEORGE BEAUMONT-GREENE."

Beaumont-Greene, like the immortal Mr. Toots, rather fancied himself as
a letter-writer. The longer he looked at his effusion, the more he
liked it. His handwriting was not unlike his father's--modelled,
indeed, upon it. With a little careful manipulation of a few
letters----!

The day was cold, but Beaumont-Greene suddenly found himself in a
perspiration. None the less, it seemed easier to forge a letter than
to avow himself penniless. Detection? Impossible! Two or three
tradesmen in Harrow would advance the money if he showed them this
letter. Next Christmas they would be paid. Within a quarter of an
hour he made up his mind to cross the Rubicon, and crossed it with
undue haste. He forged the letter, placed it in an envelope which had
come from Rome, and went to his tailor's.

Under pretext of looking at patterns, he led the man aside.

"You can do me a favour," he began, in his usual heavy, hesitating
manner.

"With pleasure," said the tradesman, smiling. Then, seeing an
opportunity, he added, "You are leaving Harrow, Mr. Beaumont-Greene,
but I trust, sir, you will not take your custom with you. We have
always tried to please you."

Beaumont-Greene, in his turn, saw opportunity.

"Yes, yes," he answered. Then he produced the lette