nd by every means in my
power endeavoured to show it. I made myself as agreeable as possible to
my comrades, and bore all their chaff and persecution with the utmost
good-humour, and went out of my way to secure and retain their good
graces.

Of course I could not do this without in a way defying Jack's influence.
Though he had never once taken me to task in so many words, I knew well
enough he considered I was wasting my time and money in this perpetual
round of festivities. But I had to take the risk of that. After all, I
was playing to shield him. If he only knew all, he would be grateful to
me, I reflected, rather than offended.

He could not help noticing my altered manner, and of course put it down
to anything but its true cause. He thought I was offended with him for
not encouraging my extravagances, and that the great intimacy with
Doubleday and Hawkesbury and Crow was meant to show him that I was
independent of him.

However, he made one brave effort to pull me up.

"Fred," said he, thoughtfully, one evening, as we walked home--"Fred,
what are you going to do about your debts?"

"Oh, pay them some day, I suppose," I said, shortly.

"When will that be?" he continued, quietly, not noticing my manner.

"I really can't say," I replied, not liking to be thus questioned.

"Do you know how much you owe?" he asked.

"Really, Jack, you take a great interest in my debts!"

"I do," he replied, solemnly, and with the air of a fellow who had made
up his mind to go through with an unpleasant duty.

"Well," I said, warming up rather, "I fancy I can look after them quite
as well by myself."

"I'm afraid I am offending you," said Jack, looking straight at me, "but
I don't think you do look after them properly."

"What do you mean?" I demanded.

"I mean," said Jack, with his arm still in mine, "that you are head over
ears in debt, and that, instead of paying off, you are spending your
money in other ways. And I don't think it's right, Fred."

"Upon my word, Jack," I said, "it's quite new for you to lecture me like
this, and I don't like it. What business is it of yours, I should like
to know?"

"You are my friend," he said, quietly.

I drew my arm roughly from his.

"If you are mine," said I, "when I want your advice I'll ask it."

He looked at me a moment doubtfully with his big eyes. Then he said, "I
was afraid of this; we never quarrelled before, Fred."

"And we shouldn't quarrel now," I crie