y.

"That isn't guessing, Jim!"

"Oh, bother! What do I care?"

"Then your charmer told you last night?"

"My charmer? What are you driving at, Gaynor?"

"Oh, how innocent! Miss Lily Ludlow."

"I've met that Lewis there," returned Jim, with an air of bravado,
though he flushed a little. "He's a regular stick."

"But it isn't Lewis. It's that Gerald Williamson,--a man about town. And
the queer thing is that he thinks he has struck a fortune. Do _you_
know, Jim? Is she to be the old lady's heir?"

Jim was silent. What should he say?

"Of course she is," said Weir. "That is--I think it depends on whether
Mrs. Nicoll approves of the marriage."

He had turned very pale.

"Are you sure it is Williamson?" asked Jim.

"He announced it himself. My cousin heard him. And as for the old
lady--the house is willed away. I've heard some talk; I can't just
remember what. She's been shrewdly giving the impression."

"It would be a shame to sell her to the highest bidder! And Williamson's
double her age. No sister of mine would be allowed to do such a thing.
She can't love him! Why, she has only been driving out with him a few
times."

"If she's sold, she has done the business herself. She's a girl to look
out for the main chance. Weir, I hope you haven't been hovering too near
the flame. The Ludlow is capital to flirt with,--quick, spicy,
sentimental by spells, not the kind of a girl to waste herself on a
young, impecunious fellow like our friend Jim, here, so he goes
scot-free. Weir, I hope you're not hard hit. We've all had a good time;
but I think now we must address ourselves to the examinations in hand,
and let the girls go. Though I am in for two big weddings, presently."

There was a summons to the class-room that stopped the chaffing. Jim
felt very sober. Lily had indirectly led him to think she cared a great
deal about him, and if matters only _were_ a little different! He ought
not to get engaged; but the preference was flattering when a man like
Weir was head over heels in love with her!

But to marry an old man like Gerald Williamson! thought the young
fellow, disdainfully.

CHAPTER XVI

COUNTING UP THE COST

Jim failed miserably. What was the matter? He couldn't seem to remember
the simplest thing. Did it make any difference to him whom she married?
Well--if it _had_ been Weir; but that imperious, pretentious,
half-dissipated Williamson, who report said had run though with one
fortune, and