y. The young prodigal already
realised the nature of the husks given to him; he was so low and abject
in his abasement that a word of rebuke would have seemed cruel. One
thing was certain, that matters were serious--gambling and drunkenness
were no light offences.

Malcolm had already been put into possession of the youth's domestic
history. His name was Cedric Templeton; his parents were dead, and he
was dependent on his half-sisters; his father had had heavy losses, and
Cedric's inheritance had been small. The first Mrs. Templeton had
brought her husband great wealth, but the money had been settled on the
daughters. Mr. Templeton's second wife was a penniless girl. She had
died two or three years after Cedric's birth, and Dinah, the elder
sister, had mothered him.

"You must put a good face on it and write to your sister," continued
Malcolm. "If you take my advice, Templeton, you will keep nothing
back--' the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth'--and
hang the consequences." Malcolm finished his sentence with a touch of
impatience, for the boy's scared face almost frightened him.

"No, no, no!" returned Cedric vehemently. "I would sooner drown myself
a hundred times over. Look here," plucking at Malcolm's coat-sleeve
with his feverish, restless hand, "you don't understand--you don't know
Dinah; she would break her heart, and Elizabeth too. They are such good
women, they don't allow for a fellow's temptation; and--and I have
broken my word."

"How do you mean, my dear lad?"

"I gave them my sacred promise not to play for money. I don't know why
Dinah was always so afraid of that. They never thought of the other
thing," and Cedric hung his head in shame--"they would not believe it
was possible; it was always debt and not paying one's bills that Dinah
feared."

"Your sister was right, Templeton," returned Malcolm somewhat sternly.
"Wait a moment, I must think over things and see what is to be done;"
and then he rose from the bench and paced slowly up and down. "A
hundred and twenty pounds lost in a single night to a professional
card-sharper," he thought. "The rogues ought to be shown up, only this
would involve the end of the lad's university career." Malcolm knew the
Proctor well--not even a first offence would receive a merciful verdict.

If only the boy would throw himself upon his sisters' compassion--women
were so soft-hearted and forgave so easily. But Cedric had refused
this; he had even use