“Don’t be silly, father,” said Miss Spriggs, sharply. “What good would Alfred’s little bit o’ money be to Uncle Gussie? If you must know, Alfred is drawing it out for uncle to invest it for him.” The eyes of Mr. and Mrs. Spriggs and Mr. Price engaged in a triangular duel. The latter spoke first. “I’m putting it into my business for him,” he said, with a threatening glance, “in Australia.” “And he didn’t want his generosity known,” added Mr. Potter. The bewildered Mr. Spriggs looked helplessly round the table. His wife’s foot pressed his, and like a mechanical toy his lips snapped together. “I didn’t know you had got your money handy,” said Mrs. Spriggs, in trembling tones. “I made special application, and I’m to have it on Friday,” said Mr. Potter, with a smile. “You don’t get a chance like that every day.” He filled Uncle Gussie’s glass for him, and that gentleman at once raised it and proposed the health of the young couple. “If anything was to ’appen to break it off now,” he said, with a swift glance at his sister, “they’d be miserable for life, I can see that.” “Miserable for ever,” assented Mr. Potter, in a sepulchral voice, as he squeezed the hand of Miss Spriggs under the table. “It’s the only thing worth ’aving—love,” continued Mr. Price, watching his brother-in-law out of the corner of his eye. “Money is nothing.” Mr. Spriggs emptied his glass and, knitting his brows, drew patterns on the cloth with the back of his knife. His wife’s foot was still pressing on his, and he waited for instructions. For once, however, Mrs. Spriggs had none to give. Even when Mr. Potter had gone and Ethel had retired upstairs she was still voiceless. She sat for some time looking at the fire and stealing an occasional glance at Uncle Gussie as he smoked a cigar; then she arose and bent over her husband. “Do what you think best,” she said, in a weary voice. “Good-night.” “What about that money of young Alfred’s?” demanded Mr. Spriggs, as the door closed behind her. “I’m going to put it in my business,” said Uncle Gussie, blandly; “my business in Australia.” “Ho! You’ve got to talk to me about that first,” said the other. His brother-in-law leaned back and smoked with placid enjoyment. “You do what you like,” he said, easily. “Of course, if you tell Alfred, I sha’n’t get the money, and Ethel won’t get ’im. Besides that, he’ll find out what lies you’ve been telling.” “I wonder you can look me in the face,” said the raging bricklayer. “And I should give him to understand that you were going shares in the hundred and ten pounds and then thought better of it,” said the unmoved Mr. Price. “He’s the sort o’ young chap as’ll believe anything. Bless ’im!” Mr. Spriggs bounced up from his chair and stood over him with his fists clinched. Mr. Price glared defiance.