He bowed, closed the door upon her and came round to the fire, hating the part so bluntly defined by his wife. To have to cajole this somewhat vulgar old Jew of shady profession, his actual father-in-law! It was trailing his pride in the mud. But he had been doing so ever since the disastrous day of his marriage. A little extra soiling, he reflected cynically, would make but faintly appreciable difference. The grave butler entered with coffee and cigars. Hugh declined the latter. “Better have one,” said Israel, carefully selecting. “Don’t get this sort of thing every day. I give seven pound ten a hundred for them.” “I am a cigarette smoker,” said Hugh, “but still----” He accepted a cigar courteously. For he knew that a man is apt to be ruffled when you refuse an eighteen-penny havana, and he had good reasons for not wishing to ruffle his host. Presently they went upstairs. Minna moved to the piano. Usually she played with taste and correctness. To-night she strummed abominably. “We are not quite in the mood for Chopin,” said Hugh, who was turning over her leaves. She stopped dead. “No. This is more suitable to one’s irritation,” and she plunged into Stephen Heller’s _Tarantella_. The old man, dozing in his chair, did not notice the change. “Don’t give it away at once,” she said in a low voice, as she played. “Begin with a formal demand in marriage and see how he takes it.” “I shall do whatever seems to me judicious,” he answered, curtly. “Remember I am an interested party,” she retorted. “There is such a thing as money to be considered, however much you may despise it.” “You may trust to my not forgetting,” he replied. The evening was over at last. He bade Minna good-bye. “I should like to say a few words to you, Mr. Hart, before I go,” he remarked on his way downstairs. His host, cordiality itself, showed him into his study, poked the fire and lighted a cigar. “Business?” “Yes.” “About the loan. I was wanting to discuss it. Best now, when we’re comfortable. Wait a moment--allow me. What is the chance of your being left a small legacy?” “None whatever, I fear,” replied Hugh. “It is devilish hard lines on me, Colman, you know. When I advanced you that money, I thought your inheritance was as safe as a mortgage. You are aware it is not my usual way of doing business. This is not an actual reversion; it’s only a convenient term. But I liked you, and somehow it’s pleasant now and then to do a friend a good turn.” “I am deeply aware of all that,” said Hugh. “And, as I mentioned, I considered the security safe.” “So did I. You can scarcely blame me.”