arvice. It was on the tip of his
tongue to add, "The early bird, you know," but he was discreet enough to
hold the words back. "Now let me look to the future, which opens out in a
brighter prospect. It is altogether absurd, Mr. Hine, that a young
gentleman who will eventually inherit a quarter of a million should have
to scrape through meanwhile on three pounds a week. I put it on a higher
ground. It is bad for the State, Mr. Hine, and you and I, like good
citizens of this great empire, must consider the State. When this great
fortune comes into your hands you should already have learned how to
dispose of it."

"Oh, I could dispose of it all right," interrupted Mr. Hine with a
chuckle. "Don't you worry your head about that."

Mr. Jarvice laughed heartily at the joke. Walter Hine could not but think
that he had made a very witty remark. He began to thaw into something
like confidence. He sat more easily on his chair.

"You will have your little joke, Mr. Hine. You could dispose of it! Very
good indeed! I must really tell that to my dear wife. But business,
business!" He checked his laughter with a determined effort, and lowered
his voice to a confidential pitch. "I propose to allow you two thousand
pounds a year, paid quarterly in advance. Five hundred pounds each
quarter. Forty pounds a week, Mr. Hine, which with your three will make a
nice comfortable living wage! Ha! Ha!"

"Two thousand a year!" gasped Mr. Hine, leaning back in his chair. "It
ain't possible. Two thou--here, what am I to do for it?"

"Nothing, except to spend it like a gentleman," said Mr. Jarvice, beaming
upon his visitor. It did not seem to occur to either man that Mr. Jarvice
had set to his loan the one condition which Mr. Walter Hine never could
fulfil. Walter Hine was troubled with doubts of quite another kind.

"But you come in somewhere," he said, bluntly. "On'y I'm hanged if I
see where."

"Of course I come in, my young friend," replied Jarvice, frankly. "I or
my executors. For we may have to wait a long time. I propose that you
execute in my favor a post-obit on your uncle's life, giving me--well, we
may have to wait a long time. Twenty years you suggested. Your uncle is
seventy-three, but a hale man, living in a healthy climate. We will say
four thousand pounds for every two thousand which I lend you. Those are
easy terms, Mr. Hine. I don't make you take cigars and sherry! No! I
think such practices almost reflect discredit on my calli