"_Deep!_" growled the baronet. "I don't know what you call _deep_. I counted on those cursed shares to pay off all my pressing liabilities, and to square me with _you_ in particular. Now that one card has gone the whole house will tumble down, of course. It's always the way. Hang it, Picard! you oughtn't to have been so cock-sure, man. Well, it's no use talking. I'm simply floored, that's all: and how I'm to be picked up _this_ time beats my comprehension altogether." "You have friends, Sir Henry," said Picard. "Plenty of them." "Plenty of them!" echoed Sir Henry. "Staunch friends and true, who would dine with me, bet with me, shoot with me, nay, some of whom would even back me up in a row, or pull for me while hounds were running if I got a fall, but who would see me d----d before they lent me a shilling, or put their names to a bill for eighteen pence." "That may be true enough with some of your swell acquaintance," replied Picard, "but you mustn't lump us all in together and ticket us 'rotten.' I myself am ready, now, this moment, to do my utmost to assist you. Sir Henry, I am a real friend." "If you know my liabilities, by Heaven you are!" exclaimed the baronet, with a sarcastic grin. "I don't care a cent for your liabilities!" said the other, as indeed he might safely say; and perhaps Sir Henry's knowledge of the world attributed this generosity to the recklessness of one who had nothing to lose. "I don't care what they are, I'll see you through them. I am your friend--your true friend--Sir Henry--I am more than a friend. The dearest wish of my heart is to be in the same boat with yourself and your family, sink or swim." In an instant, the baronet's whole demeanour changed to one of studied and even guarded courtesy. He rose from his chair, stood with his back to the empty fireplace, and inclined politely to his visitor. "I do not quite understand," said he. "Pray explain." Picard hesitated. There was something embarrassing in the other's attitude. It combined civility, defiance, vigilance, all the ingredients, indeed, of an armed neutrality. At last he got out the words, "Your daughter, Sir Henry--Miss Hallaton." "Stop a moment," interrupted the baronet, still in those guarded, courteous tones; "how _can_ my daughter be concerned in our present business?" "Simply," answered the other, fairly driven into a corner, "that I had meant--that I had intended--in short, that I had hoped you might be induced to entertain--I mean, to listen favourably. Hang it! Sir Henry, I am devotedly attached to your daughter--there!" Sir Henry drew himself up. "You do Miss Hallaton a great honour," said he, very stiffly, "and one I beg to decline most distinctly on her behalf. This is a subject which admits of no further discussion between you and me." "Are you in earnest?" exclaimed Picard fiercely. "Do you know what you are doing? Have you counted the cost of making me your enemy? Sir Henry, you must surely have lost your head or your temper?"