n the
contrary, his face was flushed and hot, and his eyes singularly bright
and restless. As soon as Lionel saw who this new-comer was, he made a
sign that a block of paper and a pencil lying on the table should be
brought to him; and, turning slightly, he put the paper on the pillow
and wrote:

"I'm nursing my voice--hope to be all right by night--are you busy
to-day, Maurice?"

"No; there is no House on Saturday," Maurice made answer.

"I wish you would stay by me," Lionel wrote, with rather a shaky hand.
"I'm in dreadful trouble. I undertook to pay Percival Miles L1100 and
Lord Rockminster L300 to-day without fail; and I haven't a farthing, and
don't know where to send or what to do."

"Oh, never mind about money!" Maurice said, almost impatiently, for
there was something about the young man's appearance he did not at all
like. "Why should you worry about that? The important business is for
you to get well."

"I tell you I _must_ pay Rockminster to-day," the trembling pencil
scrawled. "He was the only one of them who stood my friend. I tell you I
_must_ pay him--if I have to get up and go out and seek for the money
myself."

"Nonsense!" Mangan exclaimed. "What do people care about a day or two,
when they hear you are ill? However, you needn't worry, Linn. As for
that other sum you mention, well, that is beyond me--I couldn't lay my
hands on it at once; but as for the three hundred pounds, I will lend
you that--so set your mind at rest on that point."

"And you'll give it into Lord Rockminster's own hands--_this day?_"

"Surely it will be quite the same if I send the check by a
commissionaire; he must get it sooner or later."

The earnest, restless eyes looked strangely supplicating.

"Into his own hands, Maurice!"

"Very well, very well," Mangan had just time to say, for here was the
doctor.

Dr. Whitsen examined his patient with the customary professional calm
and reticence; asked a few questions, which Lionel answered with such
husky voice as was left him; and then he said,

"Yes, you have caught a severe chill, and your system is feverish
generally; the throat is distinctly congested--"

"But to-night, doctor--the theatre--to-night!" Lionel broke in,
excitedly. "Surely by eight o'clock--"

"Oh, quite impossible; not to be thought of," the doctor responded, with
decision.

"Why can't you do something to tide me over, for the one night?" the
young man said, with appealing and almost pathetic e