"That I will," cried Dick eagerly; "and I tell you now that I am glad that you have thrown dust in our eyes as you have. I always liked you, Huish, and you were about the only man from whom I never liked to borrow money." "Why?" said Huish, smiling. "Because I was afraid of losing a friend. Come up now, for Gertrude will be in a fidget to know what we have been saying.--Gertrude, my dear," he said as they re-entered the drawing-room, "it's all right." An hour later Dick parted from the young couple at the little house they had taken in Westbourne Road, and cabbed back, to send her ladyship into a fainting fit by the announcement that his sister and her husband had been at his uncle's. "For," said Lady Millet, "I can never forgive Gertrude; and as to that dreadful man Huish, in marrying him she has disgraced herself beyond the power to redeem her lot. Ah me! and these are the children I have nurtured in my bosom." It was rather hard work for Dick Millet, with his own love affairs in a state of "check," with no probability of "mate," but he felt that he must act; and in his newly assumed character of head of the family he determined to go and try to smooth matters over at Chesham Place, and took a hansom to see Frank Morrison, who was now back at his own house, but alone, and who surlily pointed to a chair as he sat back pale and nervous of aspect, wrapped in a dressing-gown. "Look here, Frank," said Dick, sitting down, and helping himself to a cigar, "we're brothers-in-law, and I'm not going to quarrel. I've come for the other thing." "My cigars, seemingly," said the other. "Yes; they're not bad. But look here, old fellow, light up; I want to talk to you." "If you want to borrow twenty pounds, say so, and I'll draw you a cheque." "Hang your cheque! I didn't come to borrow money. Light up." Morrison snatched up a cigar, bit off the end, and lit it, threw himself back in his chair, and began to smoke quickly. "Go on," he said. "What is it?" "Wait a minute or two," said Dick. "Smoke five minutes first." Morrison muttered something unpleasant, but went on smoking, and at last Dick, who was sitting with his little legs dangling over the side of the chair, began. "Fact is," he said, "I'm going to speak out. I shan't quarrel, and I'm such a little chap that you can't hit me." "No; but I could throw you downstairs," said Morrison, who was half amused, half annoyed by his visitor's coming, though in his heart of hearts he longed to hear news of Renee. "I saw my uncle yesterday." "Indeed! Poor old lunatic! What had he got to say?" "Ah, there you are wrong!" said Dick sharply. "He said something which you will own proved that he was no lunatic." "What was it?" said Morrison coldly. "That you were a confounded scoundrel." Frank Morrison jumped up in his chair, scowling angrily; but he threw himself back again with a contemptuous "Pish!" "Proves it, don't it?"