are. Mamma dear, if we strip ourselves of
everything, we must send him off."

"Then I'm afraid the stripping won't go for
much. But, in any case, d'ye take me for the
selfish heartless father that would leave his wife
and child without their little all, in that kind of
a way? By the way," he added, suddenly, putting
his child off his knee, "where's West?
We must have his long head in, besides ours.
Of course I mean long in the figurative way.
Eh, wife, what could you sport, now, for the
occasion—I mean in the way of wits?"

The wife was a gentle, rather stupid woman,
with none of the Celtic perfervidum genius
that was in father and daughter. She had been
handsome; had been married for her beauty;
was tall, worn, and, even now, elegant.

"What can I say, Harcourt?" she said, nervously.
"I am the worst person in the world
for advice."

He turned away impatiently. " She never
took an allusion." He was pointing at
something else. He had a certain delicacy, and
would not say more.

'" I'll go and put my head alongside of West's.
We'll knock out something together for this
grand occasion."

"Oh, papa," said Lulu, stopping. " No; you
must not. You promised me before, that was
never to happen again."

"Promise be hanged!" he said, angrily.
"D'ye suppose I'm not to consult a friend?"

"Then if you do, Harco," said she, decidedly,
"I'll go too. I'll forbid him to lend you money,
I tell you before; he will do what I tell him,
if it was to order him to go on his knees. You
know he would."

"What the deuce will you have me do?
Isn't that a specimen, now, of the way I'm
treated in my family? Was there ever a poor
hunted devil so checked? Ah, Miss Lu, ye
should have been as delicate as all that, when
Mother Pringle's last half came round!"

She gave a cry and started back. " Oh, you
did that? Oh, how mean, how cruel, how
unkind to expose me to that. Oh, mamma,
mamma, I'm humiliated for ever and ever;"
and she tossed her arms in the air, and walked
to and fro very wildly.

"Gad now!" he exclaimed, " what's all this?
You run off with things. I mean—I mean—
what he gave that time I applied in that
way; denied some of my own wants, which
were pressing enough, to keep up the credit
of my child. Of course it was in the way of a
loan. Haven't I a regard for the credit and
honour of the child that I—of my own child?"

This exceptional way of putting the loan
transaction seemed purposely chosen; for his
daughter, crying silently, merely sobbed out,
"I shall never rest until that debt is discharged."
Then she rose. " Go out, now, papa, and walk,
or go to him and consult him. But not a word
of that. Mamma and I will find out some
more honourable way to help you."

In an effusion of fatherly affection he went
towards her. He believed himself quite
genuine. "I'm a poor miserable creature," he
said.  " God help me! I have no purpose and
no principle. I don't know how I'll end. I
wish I was thrown out like a dog somewhere.
I'm unworthy of you both, two such angels."

"Poor, poor Harko!" said Lucy, running
towards him; there were actually genuine
maudlin tears in his eyes. " Don't say that, or
you'll make us wretched. Keep up; things
will come right, and—and you'll be M.P. yet."

Four small hands had found their way to the
velvet collar and blue cloth shoulders, and the
wretched father, as he called himself, broke from
these sympathising creatures and went out into
the open air to smoothe his brow. He had to
take a " little glass" at the corner restaurant
fatally near their residence.

Mother and daughter went in to council.
Indeed, Lulu was chairman and council
herself. For she had " the longest and strongest
head of us all," her father said. There was in the
family property a diamond brooch, a wedding
present which Mr. Dacres had actually paid for,
and to which he had often circuitously alluded.
Lulu had, however, determined it should be
kept for a grand emergency. That seemed to
be arrived now, and it should satisfy the Pringle
obligation and the journey to Trotterstown. It
was worth about one hundred guineas.

The father was sent away to play for the
stake. He went rejoicing. Miss Lulu
repaired to her friend Mr. West, and, shocked
and grieved, insisted on restoring to him what
he had advanced for her; which he, knowing
resistance was useless, accepted gravely, but a
little annoyed. " Where did all this flush of gold
come from?"

Lulu drew herself up. " Are we quite
paupers as well as exiles? —is that the insinuation,
Mr. West?"

"Who has insinuated anything, sharp Miss
Lulu? If I wished to find out, I have not
forgotten my old craft."

"A detective, I suppose," she said, with
trembling voice. " I don't doubt your gifts;
but I know your motive in all this—a generous
one. To lay me under odious obligation—me—
to have me in your power."

"What would I gain by that? What is the
precious profit in laying you under an obligation,
Miss Lulu?"

"Never mind," said Lulu, pacing up and
down excitedly. " And don't call me that."

"You mean something. I insist on knowing.
You make a charge—unkind, unfair, ungenerous
indeed—which has hurt me much."

She saw his wounded face, and a pang came
into hers. In an instant she had seized his
hand, and made as though she would kiss it.

He stopped her. " Don't!" he said. "I would
sooner have a fair, kindly judgment of me in
your heart than such a theatrical amende."

"I am a wretch," she rejoined, "a rash,
foolish, wrong-hearted creature, full of hasty
suspicion. Forgive me. Say so, or I can never
bring myself to look at you, speak to you, or
come into your presence again. Oh, say so!"