might make a fight
for it. But, dash it, Uncle Tom could cut off supplies to such a
frightful extent, if there was trouble, that he would have to go on
living at Dreever indefinitely, without so much as a fearful quid to
call his own.

Imagination boggled at the prospect. In the summer and autumn, when
there was shooting, his lordship was not indisposed to a stay at the
home of his fathers. But all the year round! Better a broken heart
inside the radius than a sound one in the country in the winter.

"But, by gad!" mused his lordship; "if I had as much as a couple--yes,
dash it, even a couple of thousand a year, I'd chance it, and
ask Katie to marry me, dashed if I wouldn't!"

He walked on, drawing thoughtfully at his cigarette. The more he
reviewed the situation, the less he liked it. There was only one
bright spot in it, and this was the feeling that now money must
surely get a shade less tight. Extracting the precious ore from Sir
Thomas hitherto had been like pulling back-teeth out of a bull-dog.
But, now, on the strength of this infernal engagement, surely the
uncle might reasonably be expected to scatter largesse to some
extent.

His lordship was just wondering whether, if approached in a softened
mood, the other might not disgorge something quite big, when a
large, warm rain-drop fell on his hand. From the bushes round about
came an ever increasing patter. The sky was leaden.

He looked round him for shelter. He had reached the rose-garden in
the course of his perambulations. At the far end was a summerhouse.
He turned up his coat-collar, and ran.

As he drew near, he heard a slow and dirge-like whistling proceeding
from the interior. Plunging in out of breath, just as the deluge
began, he found Hargate seated at the little wooden table with an
earnest expression on his face. The table was covered with cards.
Hargate had not yet been compelled to sprain his wrist, having
adopted the alternative of merely refusing invitations to play
billiards.

"Hello, Hargate," said his lordship. "Isn't it coming down, by
Jove!"

Hargate glanced up, nodded without speaking, and turned his
attention to the cards once more. He took one from the pack in his
left hand, looked at it, hesitated for a moment, as if doubtful
whereabouts on the table it would produce the most artistic effect;
and finally put it face upward. Then, he moved another card from the
table, and put it on top of the other one. Throughout the
perfor