on't see much more of him now," sneered Pillans, "now he owes you
for his dinner."

"It strikes me, Bland was never safer of a six-and-six in his life than
he is of the one he lent to-night," said Mr Shanklin. "Unless I'm
mistaken, the fellow would walk across England on his bare feet to pay
it back."

Mr Shanklin, it was evident, could appreciate honesty in any one else.
He was highly delighted with what he had seen of the new secretary. If
anything could float the Select Agency Corporation, the lad's
unsuspicious honesty would do it. In fact, things were looking up all
round for the precious confederates. With Reginald to supply them with
honesty, with easy-going spendthrifts, like Blandford and Pillans, to
supply them with money, and with a cad like Durfy to do their dirty work
for them, they were in as comfortable and hopeful a way as the promoters
of such an enterprise could reasonably hope to be.

The trio at the Shades soon forgot Reginald in the delights of one
another's sweet society. They played billiards, at which Mr Shanklin
won. They also played cards, at which, by a singular coincidence, Mr
Shanklin won too. They then went to call on a friend who knew the
"straight tip" for the Saint Leger, and under his advice they laid out a
good deal of money, which (such are the freaks of fortune) also found
its way somehow into Mr Shanklin's pocket-book. Finally, they supped
together, and then went home to bed, each one under the delusion that he
had spent a very pleasant evening.

Reginald was far from sharing the same opinion as he paced home that
evening. How glad he should be to be out of this hateful London, where
everything went wrong, and reminded him that he was a pauper, dependent
on others for his living, for his clothes, for his--faugh! for his
dinner! Happily he had not to endure it much longer. At Liverpool, he
would be independent. He would hold a position not degrading to a
gentleman; he would associate with men of intellect and breeding; he
would even have the joy of helping his mother to many a little luxury
which, as long as he remained in London, he could never have given her.
He quickened his pace, and reached home. Gedge had been there,
spiritless and forlorn, and had left as soon as he could excuse himself.

"Out of sight, out of mind," he had said, with a forced laugh, to Horace
when the latter expressed his regret at Reginald's absence.

Mrs Cruden and Horace both tried to lo