“It was rather what he did _not_ do,” with a constrained laugh. “Of course it is no business of mine. He did not pay any of his bills. I am not sure whether I ought to tell you.” “And I am quite sure you ought,” he answered with decision. “But he left such quantities of debts behind him, and no--address----” “Debts?” he repeated incredulously. “Yes, he paid for nothing. Club accounts, card accounts, mess bills, servants’ wages--not even his bearer’s bill for thread and buttons and blacking. People,” with a nervous little laugh, “seem to think that was the greatest enormity of all!” “No!” cried Mark, his pale face turning to a vivid red, “I will tell you of a greater. I knew he had spent and muddled away most of our joint-funds, and the day I was last in Shirani I collected the bills and gave him all the money I had in the world--a cheque for five hundred pounds--to settle our affairs. He swore, on his honour, he would pay them at once and send me the receipts. Now, of course, every one in Shirani believes me to be as great a swindler and thief as he is! They must naturally suppose that I--I--bolted from my creditors! I,” with increasing warmth, “now understand why you stammered and hesitated when I asked if I was not forgotten. Forgotten! I shall live in people’s memories for years--on the principle that ‘the evil which men do lives after them.’” “I am sorry I told you----” she began eagerly. “And I have chiefly myself to blame. I was an idiot to trust Waring. I had had one lesson; but--I was half mad with my own troubles, and determined to tear myself away from Shirani at once. I felt that if I stayed on I might yield to temptation--good resolutions and fresh impressions might fade--and I might never return here----” The pup, flouted and evaded by the scornful lumgoors, and exhausted by his tremendous efforts, now squatted on the path, apparently listening open-mouthed to every word. The grey pony had also drawn near, and occasionally rubbed his handsome head against his master’s shoulder, as much as to say--“Enough of such fooling; let us move on!” “This is horrible!” continued Mark. “I hate to owe a penny, and I have no means of paying our joint-debts, for Waring has wolfed the cheque.” “And your uncle?” “He has never written once. From his point of view I have treated him atrociously, and I am awfully sorry he should think so, for I am very fond of him. Of course he has done with me.” And, with a grim smile, “I am now in sober truth--a _real_ poor relation. I am a pretty sort of fellow,” he went on, “I have talked of nothing but myself--and money--money--money, for the last five minutes. Tell me of _yourself_. Are you having a good time?” “_A good time!_” she echoed, with a flash of her dark grey eyes. “I beg your pardon, Honor,” he said, humbly. “But it has been one of my few consolations when I roam about these hills, to think that you were happier than I am.” “And had forgotten _you_?” she added expressively.