my word for it, though it ain't set
down in John Murray."

"If a light heart could help to a light conscience, I must say, Mr.
Cutbill, you would appear to possess that enviable lot."

"There 's such a thing as a very small conscience," said Cutbill,
closing one eye, and looking intensely roguish. "A conscience so
unobtrusive that one can treat it like a poor relation, and put it
anywhere."

"Oh, Mr. Cutbill, you shock me," said Ellen, trying to look reproachful
and grave.

"I 'm sorry for it, Miss Bramleigh," said he, with mock sorrow in his
manner.

"Had not our friend L'Estrange an interest in this unfortunate
speculation?" asked Bramleigh.

"A trifle,--a mere trifle. Two thousand I think it was. Two, or
two-five-hundred. I forget exactly which."

"And is this entirely lost?"

"Well, pretty much the same; they talk of sevenpence dividend, but I
suspect they 're over-sanguine. I 'd say five was nearer the mark."

"Do they know the extent of their misfortune?" asked Ellen, eagerly.

"If they read the 'Times' they 're sure to see it. The money article
is awfully candid, and never attempts any delicate concealment like the
reports in a police-court. The fact is, Miss Bramleigh, the financial
people always end like Cremorne, with a 'grand transparency' that
displays the whole company!"

"I 'm so sorry for the L'Estranges," said Ellen, feelingly.

"And why not sorry for Tom Cutbill, miss? Why have no compassion for
that gifted creature and generous mortal, whose worst fault was that he
believed in a lord?"

"Mr. Cutbill is so sure to sympathize with himself and his own griefs
that he has no need of me; and then he looks so like one that would have
recuperative powers."

"There, you 've hit it," cried he, enthusiastically. "That 's it! that's
what makes Tom Cutbill the man he is,--_flectes non frangis_. I hope I
have it right; but I mean you may smooth him down, but you can't smash
him; and it 's to tell the noble Viscount as much I 'm now on my way
to Italy. I 'll say to the distinguished peer, 'I 'm only a pawn on the
chess-board; but look to it, my Lord, or I 'll give check to the king!'
Won't he understand me? ay, in a second, too!"

"I trust something can be done for poor L'Estrange," said Augustus. "It
was his sister's fortune; and the whole of it, too."

"Leave that to me, then. I 'll make better terms for him than he 'll
get by the assignee under the court. Bless your heart, Bramleigh, if it
wa