"Thank you for the inquiry, dear boy. It never was lower. I have been deucedly unfortunate; plunged into a land speculation which I thought was going to make my fortune, but which cleaned me out to the last sovereign. How on earth I made my way home I don't know. I was consoled by one reflection, that I was coming home to the dearest brother an unfortunate devil ever had." Gerald took out his check-book and put his name to a check. "Here is a blank check, Len. Fill it in for what you like." "Good boy. I am in debt, Gerald." "Never mind; there's a balance of over two thousand in the bank." "May I fill in for a thou----? "And welcome. I've a lot of money in securities." "I won't thank you, Gerald," said Leonard, handing the pen to his step-brother; "you know what my feelings are toward you. Write the sum in yourself." Gerald wrote, and gave the check back. Leonard just glanced at it, and saw that it was drawn out for twelve hundred pounds, payable to bearer. He passed his hand over his tearless eyes, and turned his head. A very skilful actor indeed was Leonard Paget; he knew to a nicety the value of a light touch. The waiter entered and said the bath was ready. "Don't bring up breakfast till I ring for it," said Leonard to the man. "Off with you, Gerald. I give you just twenty minutes." Gerald gone, he looked at the check again. "It is only an instalment," he murmured. "Every shilling he has belongs to me; and I mean to have it. As for this girl--bah! They must never come together again." Upon Gerald's appearance from the bath he greeted him with a smile. "You look twice the man you were. Now for breakfast. Tuck in, Gerald." In any other circumstances Gerald would not have been able to eat, but with such a friend and counsellor by his side he made a tolerably good meal. Then Leonard saw him to his bedroom, and did not leave it till the honest fellow was in bed, and had drank another glass of champagne into which Leonard had secretly poured a dozen drops Of a tasteless narcotic which he was in the habit of carrying about with him to insure sleep. "That will keep him quiet for six or seven hours," he said. "I must have a little time to myself to settle my plans."