All that the old gentleman said was perfectly true, and the Right Hon. Earl knew it to be so; and though he had not been ashamed to act thus, he did feel ashamed at the mention of it. It is very unpleasant to have a serious accusation brought home so pointedly; but it is more unpleasant still not to be able to say a single word by way of extenuation. His lordship, not caring to be speechless and self-convicted, replied: “There was nothing but fair play, sir, used or intended; as is manifest from the fact of my having been loser.” “Whatever was intended, I know not; but I cannot call it fair play to take advantage of youth and inexperience: that, I know, you designed to do; and I am very happy the design was frustrated. My Lord of Trimmerstone, you and I must come to a better understanding. I will not suffer you to suppose that my property is to be made answerable for your gambling-debts. I have once told you the condition on which my will was made; and on that condition I am well assured you are never likely to receive a shilling of my property. But as I have no design to leave you without some legacy, I will tell you now that I will make one more, and that a final alteration. A legacy of thirty thousand pounds you will find in my last will and testament. You know best how much of that is already anticipated; and as a friend, I would advise you to make the best of what remains. It must be a miracle of reformation that will make any change in this disposal.” Without waiting for a word in answer, the old gentleman rung for his carriage and departed, leaving the Right Hon. the Earl of Trimmerstone in a very disagreeable position. As soon as Mr. Martindale had departed, the Right Honorable began to think again most soberly and seriously of his perplexities and embarrassments. He made a great variety of calculations, but none of them were definite or satisfactory. The figures and the sums whirled round and round in his head, and all was confusion. He scarcely knew, nor could he by any means make out, whether or not he was solvent. He knew nothing more of his own affairs than that he was solicited for money which he could not pay; and when by any contrivance he could put off the time of payment, that postponement set him at rest for the time being. There was no one with whom he could consult. He had not a single friend in the world on whose good counsel he could rely. As for Sir Gilbert Sampson, he was afraid or ashamed to mention to him a word on the subject; and indeed there had been lately a great coolness between them, arising from the very negligent behaviour of his Lordship to the Countess. And she, who should have been his best friend and most confidential adviser, had very little capacity or inclination for prudential and deliberate thought.