Lunch was announced, and the presence of servants did not permit of intimate talk; but, once again settled in the library, Hazel opened fire, very gently, it must be confessed. "Uncle Percival," she began, "do you remember giving me a ten-pound note last time I was here?" "I am not likely to forget that incident," her uncle replied drily, "and how royally you flung legacies at my servant, after bestowing the note upon him—for present expenses, it is to be presumed. Well?" "Well," Hazel said gravely, "on that occasion you made it impossible for me to accept it for myself; but since then you have been so kind, so—so courteous that—Uncle Percival, will you give me five pounds?" "What for?" Mr. Desborough asked bluntly, but with interest. "Well," Hazel replied. "I should have liked to keep that a secret if I could; but it is quite impossible, because as soon as I have got it, I must go out, and you will want to know where I am going." "Certainly," her uncle assented, "and you must have the carriage." He was looking amused now. "Shopping, I suppose?" "No," Hazel said; "I want to leave it at Teddie’s lodging." "Whew," whistled Uncle Percival. "Sits the wind in that quarter? Is the boy out of pocket-money?" "It is much more serious than that," Hazel told him gravely. "He has no money to pay his rent with, and the landlady is beginning to—to kick, he says." Mr. Desborough raised his hand and coughed, to hide a smile. "How has he got himself into this mess?" he asked. "I thought he had a rise lately." "He was given a rise," Hazel admitted, "but he says that from that time his difficulties began. You see," she went on confidentially, "he treated five friends to a champagne lunch, and a theatre or two—I suspect stalls; I did not want to worry him by asking; but Teddie is so generous." "The young jackanapes," ejaculated Mr. Desborough. "I must be very, very careful to keep from him that the money comes from _you_," Hazel said, with charming frankness. "If he knew, or even suspected, I should not be able to get him to accept it." "Upon my——," Uncle Percival began, but checked himself. "Well," he continued, with pseudo-humility, that sat oddly upon him, "let him think it comes from you, as indeed it does." "But where should I have got it?" she asked, with dramatic gesture. "However," she added, "let him puzzle, the truth will probably only strike him after he has paid his debts—and then, though he may scold me a little, it will be too late for him to refuse it." "Well," Mr. Desborough said, "ring, and we will order the carriage and leave the money at the domicile of this grateful young man. He seems to be of a very independent character." "For anything I know, he will save up and pay you back," Hazel announced cheerfully; "but that can’t be helped, can it? We cannot allow him to be turned into the streets. Did you say _we_ would go?" "If you don’t object to an old man’s company," he returned.