"I say, don't do that!" cried Dick sharply. "I'm pretty well off, but I can only afford one clean shirt a day." "Jocular as ever," said Max, holding his head on one side, and looking at him admiringly. "Humour flourishes in a golden soil. And so, my dear Richard, you make your twenty per cent, out of your profession?" "Twenty per cent!" said Dick contemptuously. "Why, you don't think this sort of thing's done on twenty per cent, do you?" "How much, then?" "Well, I don't know. I'm not particular. I take a hundred per cent, when I can't get a hundred and fifty." "A hundred and fifty per cent! My dear Richard, you must put me on to this. We must be partners, Dick--Shingle Brothers, eh? But, my dear boy, what business are you in?" "Oh, yes--that's it!" said Dick, closing one eye slowly, and keeping it shut while he fixed the other on the ceiling. "But here are the ladies." As he spoke, Mrs Shingle and Jessie entered the room. "Never!" exclaimed Max, with an air of wonderment. "My dear sister, my dear niece--years younger on the one side, years more beautiful on the other. What a change since I saw you last!" "There's better light in this room than in the old one, Max; and it flatters, perhaps," said Dick. "Yes, so there is, Richard. That was a cruel cold place. But why speak of the past? My dear niece, you have really grown beautiful. Fred would be charmed to see you." Jessie's eyes contracted as she gazed full at him, and then, bending her head slightly, turned away. "Haven't you married him to a lady of fortune yet?" said Dick. "Oh no!" cried Max hastily. "He is not engaged. Tom is--to my ward, Violante--a charming girl." Jessie stood as if turned to stone, but no sound escaped her. Dick, however, saw that she was suffering, and he said, sharply-- "Ah! fine young fellow, Tom; but deuced low in his tastes. Wanted to marry a poor shoemaker's gal--girl, I mean. But there, come into my study, and I'll give you a glass of genuine port. Mother, tell them to bring in the comic port." "Comet port," she whispered. "I told you before." "All right--only meant to get him away. Look at Jessie." "I shall be delighted," said Max. "Ladies, good-bye for the present." His bow was perfection; and then Dick led the way through the well-filled conservatory, while Mrs Shingle caught her child's clammy hand in her own, for Jessie seemed about to faint. VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER TEN. A LUNATIC. "Jessie, are you ill?" cried Mrs Shingle. "No, mother, no," said Jessie, making a brave effort to recover herself. "It is all past now." "It was them talking in that heartless manner about those two fellows," cried Mrs Shingle indignantly. "What is it, John?" "Here's another gentleman to see you, mum," said the boy.