me. I had hit on a way of
arranging your affairs; but when I hinted at it, you seemed to
dislike the idea; and Leslie has since told me that you have strong
objections to giving any security on your prospective property. So
no more of that, my dear fellow. I am called out in haste to try
what I can do for a very charming client of mine, who is in great
pecuniary distress, though she has for her brother a foreign count,
as rich as a Croesus. There is an execution in her house. I am
going down to the tradesman who put it in, but have no hope of
softening him; and I fear there will be others before the day is
out. Another reason for wanting money, if you can help me, mon
cher! An execution in the house of one of the most brilliant women
in London,--an execution in Curzon Street, May Fair! It will be all
over the town if I can't stop it.

Yours in haste,
LEVY.

P.S.--Don't let what I have said vex you too much. I should not
trouble you if Spendquick and Borrowell would pay me something.
Perhaps you can get them to do so.

Struck by Frank's silence and paleness, Lord Spendquick here, in the
kindest way possible, laid his hand on the young Guardsman's shoulder.
and looked over the note with that freedom which gentlemen in
difficulties take with each other's private and confidential
correspondence. His eye fell on the postscript. "Oh, damn it," cried
Spendquick, "but that's too bad,--employing you to get me to pay him!
Such horrid treachery. Make yourself easy, my dear Frank; I could never
suspect you of anything so unhandsome. I could as soon suspect myself
of--paying him--"

"Curzon Street! Count!" muttered Frank, as if waking from a dream. "It
must be so." To thrust on his boots, change his dressing-robe for a
frock-coat, snatch at his hat, gloves, and cane, break from Spendquick,
descend the stairs, a flight at a leap, gain the street, throw himself
into a cabriolet,--all this was done before his astounded visitor could
even recover breath enough to ask "What's the matter?"

Left thus alone, Lord Spendquick shook his head,--shook it twice, as
if fully to convince himself that there was nothing in it; and then
re-arranging his hat before the looking-glass, and drawing on his gloves
deliberately, he walked downstairs, and strolled into White's, but with
a bewildered and absent air. Standing at the celebrated bow-window for
some moments in musing silence