"Well, not exactly that," confessed Ferdy, with an engaging air of candour, "though I shouldn't mind asking him for a fiver, if I were hard up, which I generally am. But when I become a doctor, Jerce could retire and hand over his patients to me, you know. Oh, there are lots of ways in which he could be useful to me, if you are nice to him. If you ain't, he may cut up rough, and Jerce isn't pleasant when he's in a rage, I can tell you." "Oh!" said Clarice, contemptuously, "so to please you, I am to marry a man old enough to be my father." "He's only fifty-five, and rich, and he'll have a title soon." "So will Anthony, if it comes to that. His father is a baronet." "A poor baronet," sneered Ferdy, with emphasis. "I'll have two thousand a year of my own when I am twenty-five," said the girl, ignoring the speech, "and Anthony has his pay and an allowance from his father. We will be able to live very comfortably on what we can get. Besides, Uncle Henry likes Anthony, and is delighted that I should marry him. As to Dr. Jerce--" she hesitated. "What about him?" murmured Baird, nervously. "I'll inform him of my engagement, when he comes down again. Also, I'll ask him about this row, as you call it, and request him to refuse you more money." "You'll ruin me," gasped Ferdinand, on whose forehead the drops of perspiration were standing thickly. "In what way?" "Jerce will chuck me. He can be a beast when he likes." "Let him be a beast," said Clarice, impatiently, "although I think you exaggerate. He'll say nothing. He has no right to say anything." "Clarice!" He caught her hands. "For my sake you must marry Jerce." The girl released herself, angrily. "What do you mean by that?" "Jerce could help me so much," said Ferdy, feebly. "Is that all?" asked Clarice, keeping her eyes steadfastly fixed on the weak, handsome face of her brother. "Of course--of course," he replied, testily. "What else could there be, you stupid girl?" "I don't know," she said, coldly, "but I do know, Ferdy, that you never by any chance tell the whole truth. You always keep something back, and that makes it difficult to know how to advise you." "I don't ask for advice." "No," she answered, bitterly, "you ask for a sacrifice which in your egotistic eyes is no sacrifice. And you are keeping something back from me. What reason have you to be afraid of Dr. Jerce?" "I have no reason. I never said that I was afraid." "And yet----" "And yet--and yet," he broke in, snappishly, "you are making a mountain out of a mole-hill. I only suggest that you should marry--" "Marry a man I don't love. My word is passed to Anthony." "Clarice?" The girl pushed him aside and opened the door. "That is enough. Go your own silly way, but don't ask me to come with you." "Ah! You are always selfish."