peculiarly low depth of social gathering. At Monte Carlo the _ennui_ of
the day was made to disappear. At Monte Carlo he could lie in bed till
eleven, and then play till dinner-time. At Monte Carlo there was always
some one who would drink a glass of wine with him without inquiring too
closely as to his antecedents. He had begun by winning a large sum of
money. He had got some sums from his brother, and when at last he was
summoned home he was penniless. Had his pocket been still full of money
it may be doubted whether he would have come, although he understood
perfectly the importance of the matter on which he had been recalled.

He had been sent for in order that he might receive from Mr. Grey a
clear statement of what it was intended to do in reference to the
payment of money to the creditors. Mr. Grey had, in the first place,
endeavored to assure him that his co-operation was in no respect made
necessary by the true circumstances of the case, but in order to satisfy
the doubts of certain persons. The money to be paid was the joint
property of his father and his brother,--of his father, as far as the use
of it for his life was concerned, and of his brother, as to its
continued and perpetual enjoyment. They were willing to pay so much for
the redemption of the bonds given by him, the captain. As far as these
bonds were concerned the captain would thus be a free man. There could
be no doubt that nothing but benefit was intended for him,--as though he
were himself the heir. "Though as to that I have no hesitation in
telling you that, you will at your father's death have no right to a
shilling of the property." The captain had said that he was quite
willing, and had signed the deed. He was glad that these bonds should be
recovered so cheaply. But as to the property,--and here he spoke with
much spirit to Mr. Grey,--it was his purpose at his father's death to
endeavor to regain his position. He would never believe, he said, that
his mother was--Then he turned away, and, in spite of all that had come
and gone, Mr. Grey respected him.

But he had signed the deed, and the necessity for his presence was over.
What should his brother do with him now? He could not keep him
concealed,--or not concealed,--in his rooms. But something must be done.
Some mode of living must be invented for him. Abroad! Augustus said to
himself,--and to Septimus Jones, who was his confidential friend,--that
Mountjoy must live "abroad."

"Oh yes; h