“How much? Oh! I am sure I could not say,” was the reply. “In some cases ready money goes so far, can be so well worked, that I might, perhaps, be able to do with very little. If I went to a capitalist, of course I should ask him for a good round sum; but if I can find a friend, I shall only just borrow enough to keep me going from hand to mouth. In any event I must make it worth _somebody’s_ while to help me; but I don’t mind that, if I am only left what I consider a fair share of the profit.” “What do you call a fair share?” “Well, that depends. I should not mind giving any one a third who helped me through the matter. Nor even a half, if the help were really serviceable; but I should object to taking a tenth, or anything of that kind, after all the worry I have had in the affair.” “Do you know any one who you think would go into it with you on what you consider equal terms?” was the Squire’s next question. “He’s nibbling,” thought Mr. Black; so he let the line float loose for a moment, while he answered, “Yes, I think I do; that man I spoke of just now, Vanney, would, if he is in London, but I am afraid he is off to Scotland, and won’t be back for some weeks; that is the way just at this time of the year, everybody is off, or starting off. Certainly I might go to Scotland after him.” “I wish I had ready money,” said Arthur; “I should not mind risking a little on it myself.” “Oh yes, you would,” answered Mr. Black; “if you had been inclined for any mischief of that kind, you would not have kept your hands out of it so long.” “How the deuce is a man to mix up in anything of the kind, if opportunity never offer?” Arthur demanded. “But opportunity does offer; opportunities are always lying under people’s feet, only some are too proud, or too cautious, or too lazy, to stoop and pick them up. No, no, Squire, you had better stick to your farming; you must be making a lot of money here, and your wife would not like you to go into business.” “My wife would wish me to do whatever was best for all our interests,” said Arthur, sharply. “Perhaps so; but, if she would, she differs wonderfully from mine,” was the reply, “Lord knows I have often been thankful I never cared twopence about her, or she would have kept me a go-by-the-ground all my life. When a man is fond of his wife, naturally he does not like to cross her. I can quite understand what has kept you back, Dudley; you ought, as Mrs. Ormson says, to have married a rich wife, and then you could have afforded to humour her.” “No man ever had a better wife than I have, Mr. Black.”