HALF A MILLION OF MONEY.
BY THE AUTHOR OF "BARBARA'S HISTORY."
CHAPTER XIV. MOTHER AND SON.

"LATE, and alone, Gervase?" said Lady
Castletowers, with cold displeasure. "The breakfast-
bell rang ten minutes ago. Where are our
guests?"

"I am sorry to have kept you waiting,
mother," replied the Earl, "and you will be sorry
for the cause. Sardanapalus had bitten Miss
Colonna in the hand, and Vaughan has gone
round with her to Mrs. Walker's room to get it
dressed. I always said that confounded bird
would do mischief some day. Where's Colonna?"

"In his room, I suppose, and deaf, as usual,
to the bell. Is Olimpia much hurt?"

"Painfully; but, of course, not dangerously."

"There is no necessity for my presence ?"

"No absolute necessity," rejoined the young
Earl, with some hesitation, and a little emphasis.

The Countess seated herself at the breakfast-
table, and dismissed the servant in attendance.

"I am glad," said she, "of a few moments
alone with you, Gervase. How long does Major
Vaughan propose to remain with us?"

"I really do not know. He has said nothing
about it, and I fancy his time just now is at his
own disposal."

"I think we ought to do something to make
Castletowers pleasant to him while he is here."

"I was intending to make the same remark to
you, my dear mother," replied the young man.
"I have, indeed, asked some men from town, and
I rather think Charley Burgoyne and Laurence
Greatorex may be down next week, but that is
not enough. Shall we give a ball?"

"Or a fête—but perhaps the summer is hardly
sufficiently advanced for a fête at present."

"And then a fête is so confoundedly
expensive!" groaned the Earl. "It won't be so bad
after the half-yearly rents have come in; but I
assure you, mother, I was shocked when I looked
into my banker's book yesterday. We have
barely a couple of hundreds to carry us through
up to Midsummer!"

The Countess sighed, and tapped impatiently
on the edge of the table with her delicate
jewelled fingers.

"It's a miserable thing to be poor!" ejaculated
the Earl.

"My poor boy, it is indeed!"

"If it hadn't been for paying off that mortgage
of Oliver Behren's . . . ."

"Which your father's extravagance entailed
upon us!" interrupted Lady Castletowers,
bitterly.

"If it hadn't been for paying that off," he
continued, " our means would now have been so
comfortable. That two thousand five hundred
a year, mother, would have made us rich."

"Comparatively rich," replied the Countess.

"Well, it's of no use to be always moaning,
like the harbour bar in Kingsley's poem," said
the young man, with an air of forced gaiety.
"We are poor, dearest mother, and we must
make the best of it. In the mean while, let us,
by all means, give some kind of entertainment.
You can think the matter over, and whatever
you decide upon is sure to be best and wisest.
I must find the money, somehow. Perhaps
Trefalden could advance me a hundred or two."

"Has he not lately come into an enormous
fortune?" asked the Countess, abstractedly.

"No, not our Trefalden;  but some member, I
believe, of his family.  I don't know the story,
but I have heard it is something very romantic.
However, Trefalden himself is a rich man—he's
too quiet and clever not to be rich. At all events,
I can but ask him."

"I don't like you to borrow money, Gervase,"
said Lady Castletowers.

"I abhor it in the ordinary sense of the word,"
replied her son. "But a gentleman may draw
upon his lawyer for a small sum without scruple.
It is not at all the same thing."

"If I could but see you well married!", sighed
the Countess.

Lord Castletowers shrugged his shoulders.

"And occupying that position in the country
to which your birth and talents entitle you! I
was talking about you the other day to the Duke
of Dorchester. He seems to think there must
be a change in the ministry before long; and
then, if he, and one or two others of our
acquaintance, get into office—nous verrons!"

"There are always so many ifs," said Lord
Castletowers, with a smile.

"By the way, Miss Hatherton—the rich Miss
Hatherton—is staying at Aylsham Park. Of
course, if we give a fête, the Walkingshaws will
bring her with them. It is said, Gervase, that
she has a hundred and fifty thousand pounds."