"When you've done breakfast, Clo," he said, "run round to the stables and tell Burke he need only saddle the bay." With the decision that he was, after all, to enjoy his day's sport, his spirits had risen; and despite the fact that the daylight revealed many evidences of last night's dissipation that would have been invisible thirty years ago, Milbanke was pleased and reassured by his appearance. His movements were energetic, his expression alert. He suggested one who is interested and attracted by life; and the elder man was too unimaginative--too single of purpose in his own concerns--to suspect that the energy, the suggestion of anticipation were due to his own presence in the house, to the promise of excitement and diversion that that presence offered. With the definite arrangement of the day's plans, a fresh energy had descended on the party, and but a few minutes passed before Clodagh and Nance rose from table and left the room. Then, as the two men were left alone, Milbanke put into action the resolution that had been gradually maturing in his mind. Not without a certain trepidation--not without an embarrassed distaste for the task--he bent forward in his precise manner, and drawing the cheque from beneath his plate, began to smooth it out. "Denis," he said, "I found this on my plate when I came downstairs----" Asshlin looked up hastily and laughed. He had all the Irishman's distaste to money as a topic of conversation. He was as sensitive in the offering of it to another, as in the accepting of it for himself. "Oh, that's all right!" he said quickly. "Not another word about that, James--not another syllable." But Milbanke continued to finger the cheque. "Denis," he began again, a shade of nervousness audible in his voice, "I am uncertain how to say what I want to say. I am extremely anxious not to offend you, and yet I feel--I fear that you may take offence." Before replying, Asshlin drained the cup of strong tea that stood beside his plate; then he glanced again at his companion. "What in thunder are you driving at?" he asked good-humouredly. Milbanke looked down. "That's what I want to explain," he answered without raising his head. "And you must not allow it to offend you. I want you, for the sake of old friendship, to let me tear this cheque up. I was excited last night; I infringed on one of my set rules--that of never playing cards for high stakes. It is for my own sake that I ask permission to do this. It--it will put me right with myself." He laughed deprecatingly. For a second there was no indication that his laboured explanation had been even heard; then, with alarming suddenness, Asshlin brought his hand down upon the table, ripping out an oath.