nially.

"Oh! ah!--well--I suppose they won't," he said, and he chuckled.
"Anyhow I stood by your poor Uncle Archibald. He was my brother of
course, and she was a second cousin of your mother's, so I felt bound
to. And I saw them across the Channel and into the Paris train.
Dreadfully bad crossing that night I remember, no private cabins to be
had, and Lady Jane was dreadfully ill. Never take your wife to sea on
your honeymoon, Shotover. It's too great a risk. That business cost me
a lot of money one way and another, and let me in for a most painful
scene with Bateman afterwards. But, as I say, you're bound to stand by
your own class. That'll be my only reason for helping you, you
understand, Shotover, if I do help you."

"And I am sure I hope you will."--The young man rose and stood with his
back to the fire and his hands under his coat-tails. He stooped a
little, looking down pensively at the hearth-rug between his feet. His
clothes--not yet paid for, or likely to be--claimed admiration, so did
the length of his legs and the neatness of his narrow hips.

"I can only assure you I shall be most awfully grateful if you do help
me," he said quietly. "I don't pretend to deserve it--but that doesn't
lessen gratitude--rather the other way, don't you know. I shall never
forget it."

"Won't you though?"

And for the life of him Lord Fallowfeild could not help beaming upon
this handsome prodigal. "Uncommonly highbred looking fellow, Shotover,"
he said to himself. "Don't wonder women run after him. Uncommonly high
bred, and shows very nice feeling too."

And then the kindly and simple gentleman drew himself up with a mental
jerk, remembering that he was there to curse rather than to bless. He
fidgeted violently.

"Not that I have actually made up my mind to help you yet," he went on.
"I am very much inclined to cast you adrift. It distresses me to put it
to you so plainly, but you are disgracefully extravagant, you know,
Shotover."

"Oh! I know," the young man admitted.

"You're a selfish fellow."--Lord Fallowfeild became relentless. "Yes,
it's extremely painful to me to say it to you, but you are downright
selfish. And that, in the long run, comes uncommonly hard on your
sisters. Good girls, your sisters. Never given your mother or me any
trouble, your sisters. But money has to come from somewhere, and each
time I pay your debts I have to cut down your sisters' portions."

"Yes, I know, and that's what's made me so