infernally unwilling to come
to you about my affairs," Lord Shotover said, in tones of perfectly
genuine regret.

"Is it though?" his father commented. "Good fellow at heart," he added
to himself. "Displays very proper feeling. Always was a good-hearted
fellow."

"I can only tell you I've been awfully wretched about it for the last
three months."

"Have you though?" said Lord Fallowfeild, with sympathy.

"I got just about as low as I well could. I felt I was nothing but a
nuisance and encumbrance. It was beastly to think of fleecing the
girls, don't you know. I came precious near cutting my throat--only
that seemed rather a dirty way of getting out of it all."

"So it is--poor boy--quite right. Nasty mean way of shirking your
responsibilities. Quite agree with you. I have never had any opinion of
a man who cut his throat. Never mention such a thing, Shotover." He
blew his nose resonantly.--"Never talk of such a thing," he repeated.
"And--poor boy--I--I'll pay your debts. Only I tell you this really is
the last time. There must be no misunderstanding about that. You must
reform, Shotover, if it's only on account of your sisters. I don't want
to take an unfair advantage of you in alluding to your sisters. Only
you must understand clearly this is the last time. You see it's
becoming too frequent. I don't want to press the case unduly against
you, but you recollect--I'm sure you do--I paid your debts in
fifty-eight, and again in sixty-two, or sixty-three, was it? Yes, it
must have been sixty-three, because that was the year my poor friend
Tom Henniker died. Good fellow Henniker--I missed Henniker. And they
wanted me to take over the hounds. Nice fellow in the hunting-field,
Henniker. Never saw him lose his temper but once, and that was when
Image rode over the hounds on the edge of Talepenny Wood."

"Rather coarse sort of brute, Image," put in Lord Shotover.

"And Henniker had such an excellent manner with the farmers, genial and
cheery, very cheery at times and yet without any loss of dignity. Great
test of a man's breeding that, being cheery without loss of dignity.
Now my poor friend, Henniker--oh! ah! yes, where was I though? Your
debts now, Shotover. Yes, it must have been sixty-three, because they
all wanted me to succeed him as master, and I had to tell them I could
not afford it, so it must have been just after I cleared you."

He looked at his erring son with the most engaging air of appeal and
remonstra