On going down Dudleigh saw a portly, bald-headed man, with large whiskers, standing in front of one of the drawing-room windows, looking out. He seemed midway between a gentleman and a blackleg, being neither altogether one nor the other. At the noise of Dudleigh's entrance he turned quickly around, and with a hearty, bluff manner walked up to him and held out his hand. Dudleigh fixed his eyes steadily upon those of the other man, and bowed, without accepting the proffered hand, appearing not to see it. His whole mien was full of aristocratic reserve, and cold, repellent distance of manner, which checked the other in the midst of a full tide of voluble congratulations into which he had flung himself. Thus interrupted, he looked confused, stammered, and finally said, “'Pon my honor, Dudleigh, you don't appear to be overcordial with an old friend, that's seen you through so many scrapes as I have.” “Circumstances,” said Dudleigh, “of a very painful character have forced me to sever myself completely from all my former associates--all, without exception.” “Well, of course--as to that, it's all right, I dare say,” remarked the other, from whom Dudleigh never removed his eyes; “but then, you know, it seems to me that some friends ought to be--a--retained, you know, and you and I, you know, were always of that sort that we were useful to one another.” This was thrown out as a very strong hint on the part of Captain Cruikshank, and he watched Dudleigh earnestly to see its effect. “I make no exceptions whatever,” said Dudleigh. “What has occurred to me is the same as death. I am dead virtually to the world in which I once lived. My former friends and acquaintances are the same as though I had never known them.” [Illustration: “WELL, REALLY--YES, THIS IS IT.”] “Gad! something has come over you, that's a fact,” said Captain Cruikshank. “You're a changed man, whatever the reason is. Well, you have a right to choose for yourself, and I can't be offended. At the same time, if you ever want to join the old set again, let me know, and I promise you there'll be no difficulty.” Dudleigh bowed. “But then I suppose you're settled down in such infernally comfortable quarters,” continued the other, “that it's not likely you'll ever trouble us again. Married and done for--that's the word. Plenty of money, and nothing to do.” “If you have anything particular to say,” said Dudleigh, coldly, “I should like to hear it; if not, I must excuse myself, as I am particularly engaged.” “Oh, no offense, no offense; I merely came to offer an old friend's congratulations, you know, and--By-the-way,” continued Cruikshank, lowering his voice, “there's that little I O U of yours. I thought perhaps you might find it convenient to settle, and if so, it would be a great favor to me.” “What is the amount?” asked Dudleigh, who remembered this particular debt perfectly well, since it had been the subject of more than one letter of a most unpleasant character.