nventor smiled sadly, but said no more, and Vane went on poring
over the coloured drawing, with all its reference letters, and sections
and shadings, while the doctor began conversing in a low tone.

"Then you really feel that it is hopeless?" he said.

"Quite. My energies are broken. I have not the spirit to run any more
risks, even if I could arrange with my creditors," replied Deering,
sadly. "Another such month as I have passed, and I should have been in
a lunatic asylum."

The doctor looked at him keenly from beneath his brows, and
involuntarily stretched out a hand, and took hold of his visitor's
wrist.

"Yes," he said, "you are terribly pulled down, Deering."

"Now, Vane, my dear," said Aunt Hannah, softly; "do put away those
dreadful plans."

"All right, aunt," said the boy; "just lift up the lamp, will you?"

Aunt Hannah raised the lamp, and Vane drew the soiled tracing linen from
beneath, while, as the lamp was heavy, the lady replaced it directly on
the spread-out papers.

Vane's face was a study, so puckered up and intent it had grown, as he
stood there with the linen folded over so that he could hold it beneath
the lamp-shade, and gaze at some detail, which he compared with the
drawing on the paper again and again.

"My dear!" whispered Aunt Hannah; "do pray put those things away now;
they give me quite a cold shudder."

Vane did not answer, but drew a long breath, and fixed his eyes on one
particular spot of the pencilled linen, then referred to the paper
beneath the lamp, which he shifted a little, so that the bright circle
of light shed by the shade was on one spot from which the tracing had
been made.

"Vane," said Aunt Hannah, more loudly, "put them away now."

"Yes," said Deering, starting; "it is quite time. They have done their
work, and to-morrow they shall be burned."

"No," yelled Vane, starting up and swinging the linen tracing round his
head as he danced about the room. "Hip, hip, hip, hurray, hurray,
hurray!"

"Has the boy gone mad?" cried the doctor.

"Vane, my dear child!" cried Aunt Hannah.

"Hip, hip, hip, hurray," roared Vane again, leaping on the couch, and
waving the plan so vigorously, that a vase was swept from a bracket and
was shivered to atoms.

"Oh, I didn't mean that," he cried. "But of course it burst."

"What do you mean?" cried Deering, excitedly.

"Look there, look here!" cried Vane, springing down, doubling the linen
tracing quickly, so that he