Carvel," says he, "there are few young gentlemen not
born among the elect that make the great friends you are blessed with."

"I have been fortunate, Mr. Dix," I replied dryly.

"Fortunate!" he cried; "good Lord, sir! I hear of you everywhere with
Mr. Fox, and you have been to Astley's with my Lord March. And I have a
draft from you at Ampthill."

"Vastly well manoeuvred, Mr. Dix," I said, laughing at the guilty change
in his pink complexion. "And hence you are here."

He fidgeted, and seeing that I paid him no attention, but went on with my
chocolate, he drew a paper from his pocket and opened it.

"You have spent a prodigious sum, sir, for so short a time," said he,
unsteadily. "'Tis very well for you, Mr. Carvel, but I have to remember
that you are heir only. I am advancing you money without advices from
his Worship, your grandfather. A most irregular proceeding, sir, and one
likely to lead me to trouble. I know not what your allowance may be."

"Nor I, Mr. Dix," I replied, unreasonably enough. "To speak truth, I
have never had one. You have my Lord Comyn's signature to protect you,"
I went on ill-naturedly, for I had not had enough sleep. "And in case
Mr. Carvel protests, which is unlikely and preposterous, you shall have
ten percentum on your money until I can pay you. That should be no poor
investment."

He apologized. But he smoothed out the paper on his knee.

"It is only right to tell you, Mr. Carvel, that you have spent one
thousand eight hundred and thirty-seven odd pounds, in home money, which
is worth more than your colonial. Your grandfather's balance with me was
something less than one thousand five hundred, as I made him a remittance
in December last. I have advanced the rest. And yesterday," he went on,
resolutely for him, "yesterday I got an order for five hundred more."

And he handed me the paper. I must own that the figures startled me.
I laid it down with a fine show of indifference.

"And so you wish me to stop drawing? Very good, Mr. Dix."

He must have seen some threat implied, though I meant none. He was my
very humble servant at once, and declared he had called only to let me
know where I stood. Then he bowed himself out, wishing me luck with the
horse he had heard of, and I lighted my pipe with his accompt.

CHAPTER XXXVII

THE SERPENTINE

Whether it was Mr. Dix. that started me reflecting, or my Lord Carlisle's
warning, or a few discreet words from young Lady Carlisle h