his cousin, and at the first opportunity he broke in on the chatter, and said: "Are you troubled about anything, Matt?"
The flow ceased abruptly. After a moment, Matthew said: "Troubled? Why should I be?"
"Well, I don't know, but if you are I think you might tell me."
"Oh! Now you are back at that Head-of-the-House stuff!" replied Matthew, with an unconvincing laugh.
"I hadn't thought of that, but now you put me in mind of it I might as well justify my position. Are you under a cloud, Matt?"
"Oh, lord, yes, but that ain't it! At least, in a way it is, but not as you think. My snyder is one of the faithful, thank God!"
Correctly interpreting this mystic phrase to mean that Mr. Ware's tailor gave him long credit, the Duke said, "What's the figure?"
There was a long silence. Mr. Ware broke it. "If you want to know, I need five thousand pounds!"
"Oh!" said the Duke. "I haven't such a sum on me at the moment, but I daresay I could find it."
Matthew began to laugh. "Gilly, you fool! As though my uncle would let you!"
"He has never kept me short of money. In any event, since I was twenty-one I have been at liberty to draw what I please. It is only my principal I may not tamper with."
"Well, if he would let you I would not! I am not such a sponge! I was only bamming!"
"Matt, what is it?"
Another long silence followed this question, but the sympathy in his cousin's voice won Matthew's confidence. "Gilly, I am run off my legs—all to pieces!" he said, sounding very much more like a scared schoolboy than a young gentleman about to enter on his third year at the University.
The Duke tucked a hand in his arm. "We'll raise the wind, Matt, never fear! But what is it? You are not scorched to that figure!"
"Oh, no, it's not debt! But I don't know what to do! It's breach of promise!"
The Duke was somewhat staggered by this revelation.
"Breach of promise! Matt, I don't know what you have been doing, but who the devil could be suing you for such a sum as that?"
"Not me! Suing you! Through my father, I daresay. To keep our name out of court! Everyone knows how rich you are!"
"What a fool I am!" said Gilly slowly. "Of course! But did you make an offer of marriage to this female?"
"Well, yes, I suppose I did," said Matthew wretchedly. "You know how it is when one writes a letter!"
"Did you write her letters?"
"Yes, I did, but I never thought—And she did not answer one of them!" said Matthew, on a note of ill-usage.
"Matt, has she many of your letters?"
"It isn't she: it's a fellow who says he is her guardian. He says he has half a dozen of my letters. I do not know how I came to write so many, for in general, you know, I am not much of a dab in that line! But she was so excessively beautiful—! You can have no notion, Gilly!"
"Where did you meet her? Not in London?"
"Oh, no! In the High! She was looking in at a shop-window, and there was a lady with her—well, I thought she was a lady, but when I came to know her better of course I saw that she was not quite the thing, but that didn't signify, and she said she was her aunt, and her name was Mrs. Dovercourt, but I daresay it was not. Anyway, Belinda dropped her reticule, and of course I picked it up, and—and that is how it all began!"
The Duke, feeling a trifle bewildered by this not very clear account of his cousin's entanglement, suggested that they should thrash the matter out in the privacy of his library at Sale House. Matthew agreed to this, but said with a heavy sigh that he did not see what could be done about it. "I won't let you pay, Gilly, and that's an end to it! It's all very well to say you may draw what money you please, but what a flutter there would be if you drew such a sum as that! It would be bound to come to my uncle's ears, and he would tell my father, and then I should have nothing to do but to jump into the river, and that would not answer, because I am a pretty strong swimmer, and I daresay I shouldn't drown at all! Of course, if I were like
The flow ceased abruptly. After a moment, Matthew said: "Troubled? Why should I be?"
"Well, I don't know, but if you are I think you might tell me."
"Oh! Now you are back at that Head-of-the-House stuff!" replied Matthew, with an unconvincing laugh.
"I hadn't thought of that, but now you put me in mind of it I might as well justify my position. Are you under a cloud, Matt?"
"Oh, lord, yes, but that ain't it! At least, in a way it is, but not as you think. My snyder is one of the faithful, thank God!"
Correctly interpreting this mystic phrase to mean that Mr. Ware's tailor gave him long credit, the Duke said, "What's the figure?"
There was a long silence. Mr. Ware broke it. "If you want to know, I need five thousand pounds!"
"Oh!" said the Duke. "I haven't such a sum on me at the moment, but I daresay I could find it."
Matthew began to laugh. "Gilly, you fool! As though my uncle would let you!"
"He has never kept me short of money. In any event, since I was twenty-one I have been at liberty to draw what I please. It is only my principal I may not tamper with."
"Well, if he would let you I would not! I am not such a sponge! I was only bamming!"
"Matt, what is it?"
Another long silence followed this question, but the sympathy in his cousin's voice won Matthew's confidence. "Gilly, I am run off my legs—all to pieces!" he said, sounding very much more like a scared schoolboy than a young gentleman about to enter on his third year at the University.
The Duke tucked a hand in his arm. "We'll raise the wind, Matt, never fear! But what is it? You are not scorched to that figure!"
"Oh, no, it's not debt! But I don't know what to do! It's breach of promise!"
The Duke was somewhat staggered by this revelation.
"Breach of promise! Matt, I don't know what you have been doing, but who the devil could be suing you for such a sum as that?"
"Not me! Suing you! Through my father, I daresay. To keep our name out of court! Everyone knows how rich you are!"
"What a fool I am!" said Gilly slowly. "Of course! But did you make an offer of marriage to this female?"
"Well, yes, I suppose I did," said Matthew wretchedly. "You know how it is when one writes a letter!"
"Did you write her letters?"
"Yes, I did, but I never thought—And she did not answer one of them!" said Matthew, on a note of ill-usage.
"Matt, has she many of your letters?"
"It isn't she: it's a fellow who says he is her guardian. He says he has half a dozen of my letters. I do not know how I came to write so many, for in general, you know, I am not much of a dab in that line! But she was so excessively beautiful—! You can have no notion, Gilly!"
"Where did you meet her? Not in London?"
"Oh, no! In the High! She was looking in at a shop-window, and there was a lady with her—well, I thought she was a lady, but when I came to know her better of course I saw that she was not quite the thing, but that didn't signify, and she said she was her aunt, and her name was Mrs. Dovercourt, but I daresay it was not. Anyway, Belinda dropped her reticule, and of course I picked it up, and—and that is how it all began!"
The Duke, feeling a trifle bewildered by this not very clear account of his cousin's entanglement, suggested that they should thrash the matter out in the privacy of his library at Sale House. Matthew agreed to this, but said with a heavy sigh that he did not see what could be done about it. "I won't let you pay, Gilly, and that's an end to it! It's all very well to say you may draw what money you please, but what a flutter there would be if you drew such a sum as that! It would be bound to come to my uncle's ears, and he would tell my father, and then I should have nothing to do but to jump into the river, and that would not answer, because I am a pretty strong swimmer, and I daresay I shouldn't drown at all! Of course, if I were like
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