utley, with
a sigh.

"I rather think, cousin Lewis," said Emma, endeavouring to repress a
smile, "that he said there was an inconsiderable balance at the bankers,
and that _unless_ the Gorong mine paid a reasonable dividend, we
shouldn't easily get over our difficulties."

Both Lewis and his mother laughed at the quiet way in which this was
said, but, while both admitted that Emma's view of the matter might
perhaps be correct, Lewis held that there was no good reason for
supposing there would be any difficulty in the meantime in obtaining
from their "man-of-business" the paltry sum that was required for a
short tour on the Continent. Indeed Mrs Stoutley regarded this
man-of-business as a mere sponge, who required only to be squeezed in
order to the production of what was desired, and the man-of-business
himself found it no easy matter to convince her that she held erroneous
views on this subject, and that at her present rate of progress, she
would, to use the doctor's glacial simile, very soon topple from the
pinnacle of fashion, on which she sat, and fall with the crash of a
social avalanche into the moraine of ruin.

"What a wise little woman you are, cousin Emma," said Lewis, gaily.
"You ought to have been bred to the law, or trained an accountant.
However, we won't be guided by your advice just now, first, because the
doctor has _ordered_ mother abroad for her health, which is our chief
consideration; and, second, because I wish of all things to see
Switzerland, and climb Mont Blanc. Besides, we are not so poor as you
think, and I hope to add a little to our general funds in a day or two.
By the way, can you lend me ten pounds just now, mother?"

"Why do you want it?" asked Mrs Stoutley, sternly, as if she meant to
refuse, but at the same time opening her purse.

"Don't ask me just now. I will repay you tomorrow, with interest and
shall then explain."

With an easy, languid smile, the carelessly amiable invalid handed her
last ten-pound note to her hopeful son, who had just transferred it to
his pocketbook, when a footman entered and presented a scrap of dirty
paper, informing his lady that the person who sent up the "card" desired
to see her.

"What is this?" said Mrs Stoutley, holding the paper gingerly with the
tips of her fingers, "Wip--Wap--Wopper! What is Wopper? Is the person
a man or a woman?"

The footman, who, although well-bred, found it difficult to restrain a
smile, intimated that the pe