ow, when he needed it, instead of making
him wait until she died, which might not be for ten years or more, for a
legacy which was steadily growing less and might be entirely exhausted
if she lived long enough,--some old people were very tenacious of life!
She was a careless old woman, too, he reflected, and very foolishly kept
her money in the house. Latterly she had been growing weak and childish.
Some day she might be robbed, and then his prospective inheritance from
that source would vanish into thin air!

With regard to this debt to McBane, if he could not pay it, he could at
least gain a long respite by proposing the captain at the club. True, he
would undoubtedly be blackballed, but before this inevitable event his
name must remain posted for several weeks, during which interval McBane
would be conciliatory. On the other hand, to propose McBane would arouse
suspicion of his own motives; it might reach his grandfather's ears, and
lead to a demand for an explanation, which it would be difficult to
make. Clearly, the better plan would be to temporize with McBane, with
the hope that something might intervene to remove this cursed
obligation.

"Suppose, captain," he said affably, "we leave the matter open for a few
days. This is a thing that can't be rushed. I'll feel the pulse of my
friends and yours, and when we get the lay of the land, the affair can
be accomplished much more easily."

"Well, that's better," returned McBane, somewhat mollified,--"if you'll
do that."

"To be sure I will," replied Tom easily, too much relieved to resent, if
not too preoccupied to perceive, the implied doubt of his veracity.

McBane ordered and paid for more drinks, and they parted on amicable
terms.

"We'll let these notes stand for the time being, Tom," said McBane,
with significant emphasis, when they separated.

Delamere winced at the familiarity. He had reached that degree of moral
deterioration where, while principles were of little moment, the
externals of social intercourse possessed an exaggerated importance.
McBane had never before been so personal.

He had addressed the young aristocrat first as "Mr. Delamere," then, as
their acquaintance advanced, as "Delamere." He had now reached the
abbreviated Christian name stage of familiarity. There was no lower
depth to which Tom could sink, unless McBane should invent a nickname by
which to address him. He did not like McBane's manner,--it was
characterized by a veiled in