"I make it my business to know everything about you. You've been so confoundedly mean of late that I had begun to understand that I must put the screw on you. And I warn you, if you don't give me what I ask, or promise to do so within a reasonable time, I shall first go to Rosalind, and then to these Kenyon people, and Caspar Brooke, and all these other friends of yours, and see what they will give me for your secrets." "They'll kick you out of the house, and you'll be called a fool for your pains," said the younger man, furiously. "No, I don't think so. Not if I play my game properly. You are engaged to Miss Kenyon, are you not?" Oliver stood silent. "I tell you that she shall never marry you in ignorance of your past unless you shut my mouth first. And you are the best judge of whether she will marry you at all or not, when she knows what we know." Then the two brothers were both silent for a little while. Oliver stood frowning, tracing a pattern on the pavement with the toe of his polished boot, and gazing at it. He was evidently considering the situation. Francis stood with his back to the railings, his eyes fixed, with a somewhat crafty look, upon his brother's face. He was not yet sure that his long-cherished scheme for extracting money from Oliver would succeed. He believed that it would; but there was never any counting upon Oliver. Astute as Francis considered himself (in spite of his failure in the world), Oliver was astuter still. Presently Oliver looked up and met Francis' fixed gaze. He started a little, and made an odd grimace, intended to conceal a nervous twitch of the muscles of his face. Then he spoke. "You think yourself very clever, no doubt. Well, perhaps you are. I'll acknowledge that, in a certain sense, you might spoil my game for me. Not quite in the way you think, you know; but up to a certain point. As I don't want to have my game spoilt, I am willing to make a bargain with you--is that plain?" "Fair sailing, so far," said Francis, doggedly. "Go on. What will you give?" "Nothing just now. The sum you named on the day when I marry Ethel Kenyon, on condition that you give me back that confession you talk about, swear not to mention your wife's sister, and take yourself off to Australia." "Hm!" said Francis considering. "So I have brought you to terms, have I? So much the better for you--and perhaps for me. Are you engaged to Miss Kenyon?" "I asked her to-night to marry me, and she consented." "You always were a lucky dog, Oliver," said Francis, with almost a wistful expression on his crafty face. "I never could see how you managed it, for my part. If that pretty girl"--with a laugh--"knew all that I knew----" "Exactly. I don't want her to know all you do. Are you going to agree to my terms or not?" "I should have said they were _my_ terms," said the elder brother, "but we won't haggle about names. Say two thousand five hundred pounds down?"