s already great wealth by adventures all over the
world, and latterly in his frantic efforts to escape the consequences of
these adventures, had rapidly made an old man of him. The waste and
pity--and at the same time the irreparableness of it all--sent a shock,
intolerably chill and dreary, through the son's consciousness. He was
too young to bear it patiently. He hastily shook it off.

"Those picture chaps are coming to-morrow," he said, as he got up,
meaning to go and dress.

Sir Arthur put his hands behind his head, and didn't reply immediately.
He was looking at a picture on the panelled wall opposite, on which the
lingering western glow still shone through the mullioned window on his
right. It was an enchanting Romney--a young woman in a black dress
holding a spaniel in her arms. The picture breathed a distinction, a
dignity beyond the reach of Romney's ordinary mood. It represented Sir
Arthur's great-grandmother, on his father's side, a famous Irish beauty
of the day.

"Wonder what they'll give me for that," he Said quietly, pointing to it.
"My father always said it was the pick. You remember the story that
she--my great-grandmother--once came across Lady Hamilton in Romney's
studio, and Emma Hamilton told Romney afterwards that at last he'd found
a sitter handsomer than herself. It's a winner. You inherit her eyes,
Douglas, and her colour. What's it worth?"

"Twenty thousand perhaps." Douglas's voice had the cock-sureness that
goes with new knowledge. "I've been looking into some of the
recent prices."

"Twenty thousand!" said Sir Arthur, musing. "And Romney got seventy-five
for it, I believe--I have the receipt somewhere. I shall miss that
picture. What shall I get for it? A few shabby receipts--for nothing. My
creditors will get something out of her--mercifully. But as for me--I
might as well have cut her into strips. She looks annoyed--as though she
knew I'd thrown her away. I believe she was a vixen."

"I must go and change, father," said Douglas.

"Yes, yes, dear boy, go and change. Douglas, you think there'll be a few
thousands over, don't you, besides your mother's settlement, when it's
all done?"

"Precious few," said Douglas, pausing on his way to the door. "Don't
count upon anything, father. If we do well to-morrow, there may be
something."

"Four or five thousand?--ten, even? You know, Duggy, many men have built
up fortunes again on no more. A few weeks ago I had all sorts of ideas."

"Th