While she was upon her errand no--words passed between the two. Mr. Marrapit took the glass from her in shaking hands. “Leave us,” he said. He drank of his barley water; placed the glass upon the bench beside him; gave George a wan smile. “I am stricken in years,” he said. “I have passed through a trance or conscious nightmare. You will have had experience of such affections of the brain. I thought”--the hideous memory shook him--“I thought you asked me for five hundred pounds.” George said defiantly: “I did.” Mr. Marrapit frantically reached for the barley water; feverishly gulped. “I shall have a stroke,” he cried. “My hour is at hand.” My poor George flung himself on a note of appeal. “Oh, I say, uncle, don't go on like that! You don't know what this means to me.” “I do not seek to know. I am too fully occupied with its consequences to myself; it means a stroke. I feel it coming. My tomb yawns.” George gripped together his hands; paced a few strides; returned. “Oh, for heaven's sake, don't go on like that! Won't you listen to me? Is it impossible to speak with you as man to man? If you refuse what I ask, you have only to say no.” “You promise that?” “Of course; of course.” “I say it now, then. No.” “But you haven't heard me.” “Unnecessary.” The tortured young man raised his voice. “It is necessary! You shall! You must!” “Barley water!” Mr. Marrapit gasped. “Barley water! I am going to be murdered.” “Oh, this is insupportable!” George cried. “I endorse that. A double death threatens me. I shudder between a stroke and a blow. I shall be battered to death on my own lawn.” “If you would only listen to me,” George implored. “Why can we never be natural when we meet?” “Search your heart for the answer,” Mr. Marrapit told him. “It is because your demands are unnatural.” “You haven't heard them. Listen. I am on the threshold of my career. I am sure you will not ruin it. The real price of this practice is 650 pounds--the value of a year and a half's income; that is the usual custom. I am offered it for four hundred. Then I want to marry and to have a little balance with which to start--say 100 pounds for that. That makes 500 pounds altogether. I implore you to lend--lend, not give--that sum. I will pay you back 50 pounds at the end of the first year and a hundred a year afterwards. Interest too. I don't know much about these things. Any interest you like. We would get a solicitor to draw up an agreement. Say you will lend the money. I feel sure you will.” “You delude yourself by that assurance.” “Oh, wait before you refuse. My prospects are so bright if only you will help me. I have no one else to whom I can turn. It is only a loan I ask.” “It is refused.” George stamped away, hands to head. The poor boy was in agony. Then returned: “I won't believe you. You will not be so heartless. Think over what I have said. Tell me to-night--to-morrow.” “My answer would be the same.” “You absolutely refuse to lend me the money?”