"If it was found out it would," said Colonel Tempest, in a choked voice. The detection, which he always told himself was an impossibility, had, nevertheless, a horrible way of masquerading before him at intervals as an accomplished fact. John knit his brows. "I can't pretend not to know what it is," he said. "It is a debt of honour. You have been betting." "Yes," said Colonel Tempest, faintly. "I suppose you can't touch your capital. That is settled on your children." "No," said Colonel Tempest. "There were no settlements when I married. I had to do the best I could. I had twenty thousand pounds from my father, and my wife brought me a few thousands after her uncle's death; a very few, which her relations could not prevent her having. But there were the children, and one thing with another, and women are extravagant, and must have everything to their liking; and by the time I had settled up and sold everything after the break-up, it was all I could do to put Archie to school." (Oh! Di, Di, cold in your grave these two and twenty years! Do you remember the little pile of account books that you wound up, and put in your writing-table drawer, that last morning in April, thinking that if anything happened, he would find them there--afterwards. He had always inveighed against the meanness of your economy before the servants, and against your extravagance in private. Do you remember the butcher's book, with thin blotting paper, that blotted tears as badly as ink sometimes, for meat was dear; and the milk bills? You were always proud of the milk bills, with the space for cream left blank, except when he was there. And the little book of sundries, where those quarter pounds of fresh butter and French rolls, were entered, which Anne ran out to get if he came home suddenly, because he did not like the cheap butter from the Stores. Do you remember these things? He never knew, he never looked at the dumb reproach of that little row of books: but I cannot think, wherever you are, that you have quite forgotten them.) John was silent again. How could he deal with this man who roused in him such a vehement indignation? For several minutes he could not trust himself to speak. "I think I had better go," said Colonel Tempest at last. John started violently. "No, no," he said. "Wait. Let me think." The nurse and his aunt came into the room at that moment. "Are not you feeling tired, sir?" the nurse inquired, warningly. "Yes, John," said Miss Fane, grunting as her manner was. "Mustn't get tired." "I am not," he replied. "Colonel Tempest and I are discussing business matters which won't wait--which it would trouble me to leave unsettled. We have not quite finished, but he is more tired than I am. It is the hottest day we have had. Will you give him a cup of tea, Aunt Flo, and bring him back in half an hour."