"Oh! don't beat around the bush. What do you suppose I sent to you for? It's easy enough to come in, well fed and well dressed--I'll warrant you drove here in style----" "I don't think I'd say that, if I were you," said Comethup quietly. His hands were gripped closely behind him, and one foot was beating restlessly on the carpet. "You know I've always been ready to--to lend you anything in my power. There's only one thing I'd like to say, and that is, I should be grateful if you wouldn't say anything about it to any one else--to 'Linda, for instance." "You needn't fear that; I've got my pride--possibly more of it than you possess. There! I don't want to quarrel with you; only I suppose I've got a little soured when I could see no prospect of anything coming in. And money does go so devilish fast in London! Why, that hundred I had--you remember when I left poor old dad stranded without a halfpenny--it's all gone long since. Poetry is not a paying game, my boy, and these days people don't seem to believe in a poet who's hidden away in dingy rooms like this. You see, I can't ask any one to see me; the people I knew have lost sight of me, and I am in daily dread of being shelved altogether. A poet must remember his social duties, like every one else. While I go on at this rate I shall never make a splash--never do anything." "Yes, you'll do well enough in time," said Comethup, glancing uneasily toward the door. "As you want me to put the thing bluntly," he added with a little laugh, "perhaps I may say that I've brought some money with me, and that more shall be forthcoming when that's gone--until, of course, you've been able to make your 'splash,' as you term it, and can repay it." "Oh! of course, that will be all right; it's bound to come sooner or later. That's just the point; the things are talked about enough, and if I could once thrust my head in at society's door and talk about them myself, I should be a made man. How much can you spare me?" "Well, I don't spend much myself, and I thought perhaps--say two hundred?" "By Jove, you're a good fellow! Pass it over. I must trump up a story to 'Linda about a sudden remittance from the publishers; women like to know the ins and outs of things." "Is--is she well?" asked Comethup carelessly, as he held out the notes to the other. "Oh, yes, she's well enough," replied Brian. "Like most of her delightful sex, she's possessed of a temper, and so am I, so that we don't always pull together nicely in harness. But she's very fond of me, and I--yes, I'm very fond of her. But, I say, you'd better be going, hadn't you?" "Yes, I think I'll go," replied Comethup. He picked up his hat, and looked for a moment round the room; he did not know when, if ever, he should see it again, and it was a wonderful place to him, poor though it was, because she lived there.