"I want to ask your advice on a small personal concern. You know the world so much better than I do. "Truly yours, "HELEN CARRUTH." The next morning, when I woke from dreams of poker, this was the first letter which I opened. It was nicely written, in a small, round hand, as clear as copperplate--somehow it did not strike me as being the writing of a woman who did not know the world. Mrs. Carruth seemed friendly. With a background of intentions, as usual? What was the "small personal concern?" An excuse?--only that and nothing more? I wondered. I had to go down to Cockington by the afternoon train--to Dora, and to Haselton Jardine. I should probably stay there till Tuesday or Wednesday--it depended. I might make it Thursday with Mrs. Carruth--if anything turned up at the last moment I could always send an excuse. Something about the woman attracted me. A _tête-à-tête_ might prove amusing. There and then I scribbled an acceptance--appointing Thursday. I was conscious of the possession of a head--the adventures of the night had left the flavour of brandy behind. We had made up accounts before we parted. There had been diversions! I had a nice little pocketful of money. Pendarvon owed me seventeen thousand odd, Archie owed him over four thousand, and me over thirty-five thousand. As I surveyed Archie's heap of IOU's I felt that I had better make early inquiries into the prices current of waste paper. Pendarvon's seventeen thousand I would get within the week, or mention it. No need to trouble myself about Pendarvon. While I still was fingering his paper, Burton brought me an envelope on which I recognised his handwriting. "Mr. Pendarvon's servant waits for an answer, sir?" The envelope contained a cheque and note. "ARLINGTON STREET. "_Friday_. "DEAR TOWNSEND,--Enclosed find a cheque for £17,450. Short reckonings make long friends. Please give IOU's to bearer. "Yours, "C. P." I packed up his IOU in an envelope, with a word of thanks, and handed them to Burton. Pendarvon was the sort of man one liked to play with--when one won. He might not prove so pleasant an opponent when one lost, and owed one's losings, and was pressed for cash. Asking for no grace, he gave none. Archie would have to find that four thousand in a week. Poor dear old Archie! What was I to do? I had as much chance of getting thirty-five thousand pounds out of him as out of the first beggar I might meet in the street. Well, I could afford to be magnanimous. I was like unto him that expecteth nothing. I might let him off--if his beggarly, but proud, Scotch blood would suffer it. It might be worth my while to put him under an obligation.