"I don't know how it has come about," was Anthony's answer. "It is so, sir; and you must be so good as to help me out of it." "Your allowance is sufficient--amply so. Do you forget that I set you clear of debt at the beginning of the year? What money do you want?" Anthony Dare began pulling the fringe out of the dessert napkin, to the great detriment of the damask. "Two hundred pounds, sir." "Two hundred pounds!" echoed Mr. Dare, a dark expression clouding his handsome face. "Do you want to ruin me, Anthony? Look at my expenses! Look at the claims upon me! I say that your allowance is a liberal one, and you ought to keep within it." Anthony sat biting his lip. "I would not have applied to you, sir, if I could have helped it; but I am driven into a corner and _must_ find money. I and Hawkesley drew some bills together. He has taken up two, and I----" "Then you and Hawkesley were a couple of fools for your pains," intemperately interrupted Mr. Dare. "There's no game so dangerous, so delusive, as that of drawing bills. Have I not told you so, over and over again? Simple debt may be put off from month to month, and from year to year; but bills are nasty things. When I was a young man I lived for years upon promises to pay, but I took care not to put my name to a bill." "Hawkesley----" "Hawkesley may do what you must not," interrupted Mr. Dare, drowning his son's voice. "He has his father's long rent-roll to turn to. Recollect, Anthony, this must not occur again. It is impossible that I can be called upon periodically for these sums. Herbert is almost a man, and Cyril and George are growing up. A pretty thing, if you were all to come upon me in this manner. I have to exert my wits as it is, I can tell you. I'll give you a cheque to-morrow; and I should serve you right if I were to put you upon half allowance until I am repaid." Mr. Dare finished his wine, rang for the table to be cleared, and left the room. Anthony remained standing against the side of the window, half in, half out, buried in a brown study, when Herbert came up, leaping over the grass. Herbert was nearly as tall as Anthony. He had been for some time articled to his father, but had only joined the office the previous Midsummer. He looked into the room and saw it was empty. "Where's the governor?" "Gone somewhere. Into the drawing-room, perhaps," replied Anthony. "What a nuisance!" ejaculated Herbert. "One can't talk to him before the girls. I want twenty-five shillings from him. Markham has the primest fishing-rod to sell, and I must have it." "Twenty-five shillings for a fishing-rod!" cried Anthony. "And cheap at the price," answered Herbert. "You don't often see so complete a thing as this. Markham would not part with it--it's a relic of his better days, he says--only his old mother wants some comfort or other which he can't otherwise afford. The case----" "You have half-a-dozen fishing-rods already."