back into a big arm-chair; "I
was up till daylight, and then I had to be in the office by nine, and
to-night Billy Fleetwood is giving--oh, something or other. By the way,
the market isn't doing a thing to the shorts! You're not in, are you,
Selwyn?"

"No, not that way. I hope you are not, either; are you, Gerald?"

"Oh, it's all right," replied the young fellow confidently; and raising
his glass, he nodded at Selwyn with a smile.

"You were mighty nice to me, anyhow," he said, setting his glass aside
and lighting a cigar. "You see, I went to a dance, and after a while
some of us cleared out, and Jack Ruthven offered us trouble; so half a
dozen of us went there. I had the worst cards a man ever drew to a
kicker. That was all about it."

The boy was utterly unconscious that he was treading on delicate ground
as he rattled on in his warmhearted, frank, and generous way. Totally
oblivious that the very name of Ruthven must be unwelcome if not
offensive to his listener, he laughed through a description of the
affair, its thrilling episodes, and Mrs. Jack Ruthven's blind luck in
the draw.

"One moment," interrupted Selwyn, very gently; "do you mind saying
whether you banked my check and drew against it?"

"Why, no; I just endorsed it over."

"To--to whom?--if I may venture--"

"Certainly," he said, with a laugh; "to Mrs. Jack--" Then, in a flash,
for the first time the boy realised what he was saying, and stopped
aghast, scarlet to his hair.

Selwyn's face had little colour remaining in it, but he said very
kindly: "It's all right, Gerald; don't worry--"

"I'm a beast!" broke out the boy; "I beg your pardon a thousand times."

"Granted, old chap. But, Gerald, may I say one thing--or perhaps two?"

"Go ahead! Give it to me good and plenty!"

"It's only this: couldn't you and I see one another a little oftener?
Don't be afraid of me; I'm no wet blanket. I'm not so very aged,
either; I know something of the world--I understand something of men.
I'm pretty good company, Gerald. What do you say?"

"I say, _sure_!" cried the boy warmly.

"It's a go, then. And one thing more: couldn't you manage to come up to
the house a little oftener? Everybody misses you, of course; I think
your sister is a trifle sensitive--"

"I will!" said Gerald, blushing. "Somehow I've had such a lot on
hand--all day at the office, and something on every evening. I know
perfectly well I've neglected Eily--and everybody. But the first mo