Of course, all these outings by land and water cost a great deal of money, but Jack had found Moss, the money-lender, most suddenly and strangely complaisant. Instead of dunning him for what was owing, Moss actually pressed him to borrow more, and Jack, always too careless in money matters, was quite ready to oblige him. "I can pay him out of my salary, when I get the appointment," he said to Leonard, in response to the latter's remonstrances and warnings. "Yes, when you get it," said Leonard. "What do you mean?" said Jack. "Do you mean to hint that Stephen isn't to be relied upon?" "I haven't the honor of knowing much of Mr. Davenant," said Leonard, "and so can't say whether he is more reliable than most public men who promise places and appointments; but I do know that men have grown gray-headed while waiting for one of those said places." "You don't know Stephen," said Jack, confidently. "He can manage anything he likes to set his mind on. He is not one of my sort. He can't let the grass grow under his feet. There, stop croaking, and come and dine at the Square." And Leonard would go, for he and Una had, as Jack said, "cottoned to one another." Una felt all sorts of likings and gratitude for the man who had always been Jack's friend, and none of the jealousy which some girls feel for their lover's bachelor acquaintances. "I am sure he is good and true, Jack," she said. "Good! There isn't a better man in England," Jack affirmed. "And he's as true as steel. Poor old Len!" "Why do you pity him?" said Una, who had not altogether lost her way of asking direct questions. "Well, you see, there's a lot of romance about Len," said Jack; and he told her about Leonard's meeting with Laura Treherne. "And he has never found her?" said Una. "Not from that day to this," answered Jack. "And yet he still remembers and loves her," murmured Una. "Yes, I like your friend, Jack, and I do hope he will meet with this young lady and be happy. I should like all the world to be as happy as I am!" "Ah, but don't you see all the world aren't angels like you, you know," retorted Master Jack, kissing her. Though, in accordance with Stephen's advice, the engagement had not been made public, the outside world was beginning to get an inkling of what was going on in Walmington Square. Jack's friends at the club chaffed him on the unfrequency of his visits. "There's some mischief the Savage is planning," said Dalrymple. "You scarcely ever see him here now; he doesn't play, and shuns the bottle as if it were poison, and he's altogether changed. I shouldn't be surprised if he were to take to public meetings like that distant cousin of his, Stephen Davenant." "It is my opinion," said Sir Arkroyd Hetley, "that he spends all his time at Walmington Square, for my man sees him going and coming at all hours. The Savage is in love." And gradually those rumors spreading, like the ripple of a stone in a pool, reached Park Lane, and got to Lady Bell's ears.