"He's gone; I saw him go out this moment. I should not have come in otherwise; and you mustn't send me away, dear Cleve, I'm in such awful trouble. Everything has gone wrong with us at Hazelden. You know that quarrying company--the slates, that _odious_ fellow, Larkin, led him into, before the election and all the other annoyances began." "You mean the Llanrwyd company?" "Yes; so I do." "But that's quite ruined, you know. Sit down." "I know. He has lost--frightfully--and Mr. Etherage must pay up ever so much in calls beside; and unless he can get it on a mortgage of the Windermore estate, he can't possibly pay them--and I've been trying, and the result is just this--they won't lend it anywhere till the litigation is settled." "Well, what can I do?" said Cleve, yawning stealthily into his hand, and looking very tired. I am afraid these tragic confidences of Tom Sedley's did not interest Cleve very much; rather bored him, on the contrary. "They won't lend, I say, while this litigation is pending." "Depend upon it they won't," acquiesced Cleve. "And in the meantime, you know, Mr. Etherage would be ruined." "Well, I see; but, I say again, what can I do?" "I want you to try if anything can be done with Lord Verney," said Tom, beseechingly. "Talk to my uncle? I wish, dear Tom, you could teach me how to do that." "It can't do any harm, Cleve--it can't," urged Tom Sedley, piteously. "Nor one particle of good. You might as well talk to that picture--I do assure you, you might." "But it could be no pleasure to him to ruin Mr. Etherage!" "I'm not so sure of that; between ourselves, forgiving is not one of his weaknesses." "But I say it's quite impossible--an old family, and liked in the county--it would be a scandal for ever!" pleaded Tom Sedley, distractedly. "Not worse than that business of Booth Fanshawe," said Cleve, looking down; "no, he never forgives anything. I don't think he perceives he's taking a revenge; he has not _mind_ enough for repentance," said Cleve, who was not in good humour with his uncle just then. "Won't you try? you're such an eloquent fellow, and there's really so much to be said." "I do assure you, there's no more use than in talking to the chimney-piece; if you make a point of it, of course, I will; but, by Jove, you could hardly choose a worse advocate just now, for he's teasing me to do what I _can't_ do. If you heard my miserable story, it would make you laugh; it's like a thing in a _petite comédie_, and it's breaking my heart." "Well, then, you'll try--won't you try?" said Tom, overlooking his friend's description of his own troubles. "Yes; as you desire it, I'll try; but I don't expect the slightest good from it, and possibly some mischief," he replied. "A thousand thanks, my dear Cleve; I'm going down to-night. Would it be too much to ask you for a line, or, if it's _good_ news, a telegram to Llwynan."