“Simon,” said M. de la Bourbonais, stopping as they came within a few steps of The Lilies, “I am going to ask you for a proof of friendship.” He scarcely ever called the baronet by his name, and Sir Simon felt that, whatever the proof in question was, it was stirring Raymond’s heart very deeply to ask it. “I thought we had got beyond _asking_ each other anything of that sort; if I wanted a service from you, I should simply tell you so,” replied the baronet. “You are right. That is just what I feel about it. Well, what I want to say is this: I have a hundred pounds laid by. I don’t want it at present; there is no knowing when I may want it, so I will draw it to-morrow and take it to you.” Raymond made his little announcement very simply, but there was a tremor in his voice. Sir Simon hardly knew what to say. It was impossible to accept, and impossible to refuse. “It’s rather a good joke, my offering to lend you money!” said Raymond, laughing and walking on as if he noticed nothing. “But you know the story of the lion and the mouse.” “Raymond, you’re a richer man than I am,” said Sir Simon; “a far happier one,” he added in his own mind. “Then you’ll take the hundred pounds?” “Yes; that is to say, no. I can’t say positively at this moment; we’ll talk it over to-morrow. You’ll come up early, and we’ll talk it over. You see, I may not want it after all. If I get the full value of Nero and Rosebud, I shouldn’t want it.” “But you may not find a purchaser at once, and a hundred pounds would keep this man quiet till you do,” suggested Raymond. “My dear old boy!” said the baronet, grasping his hand--they were at the gate now--“I ought to be ashamed to own it; but the fact is, Roxham--you know Lord Roxham in the next county?--offered me a thousand pounds for Rosebud only two days ago. I’ll write to him to-morrow and accept it. I dare say he’d be glad to take the two.” “Oh! how you unload my heart! Good-night, mon cher ami. A demain!” said Raymond.