‘O yes. I believe that she has a good twenty thousand a year, if not more.’ ‘And yet she lets you live here on two hundred and fifty! I can’t say much for her princely liberality.—Do you know any one who will recommend me? And who is this Steward of hers?’ ‘He is a Scotchman, named M‘Dum—Donald M‘Dum. He used to be merely a kind of farm-bailiff; but he falls in with all my aunt’s whims, and I rather fancy he is making a good thing out of his place.’ ‘Not what you would call a very upright man?’ hazarded Tom. ‘By no means. From what I have heard, I should take him to be a regular money-grubber. George Fegan, of Figblossom Buildings, who was in Scotland last autumn, met him several times, and told me all about him.’ ‘Ah, I shall go and see Fegan. Don’t you mention the matter. But remember one thing: if I get the appointment, I’ll guarantee that the old lady shall take you into immediate favour. I have an idea, a grand one. At present, never mind what it is. If this M‘Dum is as mercenary as you make out, we must raise money to bribe him to use his influence on my behalf; and the question is, how can we raise it? All my modest expectations are centred upon the death of my uncle Blighter, who, as you know, is already bedridden. When he dies, I shall come into a few thousands.—Will you lend me a thousand, if I want it?’ Checkstone and Stuart were old school-chums, and although not altogether prompt in satisfying the demands of their tailors, trusted one another completely. ‘I could realise my small investments,’ said Charlie; ‘but by doing so I should reduce my income by fifty pounds a year; so I hope that the favours from my aunt won’t be long in coming.’ ‘Then you shall realise; and I’ll give you my promissory-note for the amount. But first I must see Fegan and make inquiries. I won’t do anything risky; trust me for that. While I benefit myself, I shall doubly benefit you. When I have called on Fegan, I shall at once, if necessary, go down to Balquhalloch and see the great M‘Dum. When I wire to you, you can realise; and I can draw upon you for any sum up to a thousand, eh?’ ‘So be it,’ assented Charlie. ‘And I hope you will get the appointment and help me out of my difficulties. Why, if only my aunt would do the proper thing, I could marry. She might easily spare, say, a thousand a year; and with that addition to my income, Kate and I could do very well.’ ‘That marrying craze of yours is like a millstone tied to your neck. You ought to look out for a girl with money. Kate Smith is an orphan, and has no expectations; and in any case, you might—if you will forgive my saying so—do better than marry a governess.’ ‘My father married a governess!’ exclaimed Charlie warmly.