He turned to pick up his great-coat. Mr. Hethersett watched him shrug himself into it. He was strongly tempted to let him go, but although he was not very hopeful of being able to prevail upon him to approach Cardross, he felt that it behoved him to make the attempt.

“Been thinking about it all day,” he said. “Seems to me Cardross ought to know of it.”

“Well, he ain’t going to,” replied Dysart shortly.

“Wouldn’t do if he were to get wind of it,” insisted Mr. Hethersett. “Wouldn’t like it, if he found her ladyship had been hoaxing him.”

“Now, don’t you start fretting and fuming!” begged Dysart. “I told my sister I’d settle it, and so I will!”

“No business of mine, of course, but how?” asked Mr. Hethersett.

“By hedge or by stile,” replied Dysart flippantly.

“It won’t fadge. All to pieces yourself. Daresay you’re thinking of a run of luck, but it ain’t when one’s run off one’s legs that one gets the luck: more likely to be physicked! Ever noticed that it’s pretty near always the best-breeched coves who win? Seems to me there’s only one way you can help Lady Cardross.”

Dysart looked at him with a slight frown creasing his brow. “Well, what is it?”

Mr. Hethersett took snuff with deliberation. “Best way out of the fix is for her to tell Cardross the whole. Tried to get her to do it, but she wouldn’t hear of it. Seemed to be in the deuce of a quake. No use telling her not the slightest need. Got the notion fixed in her head. I can’t tell him. The thing is for you to do it.”

“I tell Cardross my sister’s swallowed a spider, and is trying to break shins with Jew King?” gasped the Viscount. “Well, I thought you must be a trifle disguised when you asked me to come home with you, but I can see now that you’re either ape-drunk, or touched in your upper works!”

“No, I ain’t,” replied Mr. Hethersett stolidly. “I know it’s a dashed difficult thing to do: in fact, it needs a devilish good bottom, but they say you’ve got that.”

“Bottom! A damned whiddling disposition is all I’d need, and I’ll have you know that’s something I’ve not got!” Dysart shot at him. “Cry rope on my own sister? By God, if I hadn’t been drinking your brandy, damned if I wouldn’t tip you a settler, Hethersett!”

Mr. Hethersett was thrown into disorder. It was not that he particularly feared the Viscount’s fists, both of which were suggestively clenched; but that, in face of that fiery young man’s quick, wrath, the horrid suspicion assailed him that he had been doing him an injustice. This was a breach of ton the very thought of which made him turn pale. He hastened to make amends. “Beg you won’t give the brandy a thought!” he said. “Not that I wish to sport a painted peeper, but shouldn’t like you to feel yourself at a disadvantage. Boot might be on the other leg, too. What I mean is, not a thing I’m partial to, but I can mill my way out of a row.”

“I should like to know what the devil you mean by thinking I’m the sort of rum touch who—”

“Spoke under a misapprehension!” said Mr. Hethersett. “Took a notion into my head! Stupid thing to do!”

“What notion?” demanded the Viscount.

Mr. Hethersett, much embarrassed, coughed. Upon the question’s being repeated, with a good deal of emphasis, he said: “Couldn’t think why Lady Cardross should be afraid to tell my cousin she was in debt. Very well acquainted with Cardross, you know. Boys together. Ready to swear he’d give her anything she wanted. Might be in a tweak if she’d taken to gaming, but it can’t be that. I mean, she don’t know one card from another! Occurred to me that perhaps it was something Cardross wouldn’t allow.” He once more studied the design on his snuff-box. “Might even have forbidden it. Mind you, very understandable thing for her to do! Persuaded my cousin would think it so, too. Natural affection, I mean.”

“Are you saying you thought she was under the hatches because she’d lent her blunt to me?” demanded the Viscount.

“Only thing I could hit on!” pleaded Mr. Hethersett. “See I was mistaken, of course.”

The Viscount was just about to tell him extremely forcefully that so far from being responsible for Nell’s difficulties he had had nothing whatsoever to do with them when he suddenly remembered his own obligation to her. It was true that this had not put her in debt at the time; but it was equally true that it had made it impossible for her to pay, later, for a Chantilly lace court dress. For a moment he felt abominably ill-used. She had assured him that she was flush in the pocket; and it was rather too bad of her subsequently to run into debt, instead of exercising a little economy.

He eyed Mr. Hethersett smoulderingly. He had never liked the fellow above half, and to be unable to refute his ignoble suspicions made him seethe with rage. He wanted more than anything to plant him a facer, but since that also, under the circumstances, was impossible, he had to content himself with saying in a voice of ice: “Accept my thanks for your kind offices! And rest assured that you have no need to tease yourself further in the matter! I wish you good-night!”

With these dignified words he picked up his hat and cane, bowed stiffly to his host, and departed. Mr. Hethersett, closing the front door behind him, was left to mop his brow, and to wonder what would now be the outcome of the affair. Convinced of Dysart’s innocence, he was still profoundly skeptical of his ability to rescue his sister from the River Tick.

Chapter Seven

Not very many hours later Nell was surprised and gratified to receive a visit from her brother. She had been hopeful that he would call that day, but since his habits were by no means matutinal she had had no expectation of seeing him until after noon. She and Letty had returned to Grosvenor Square at eleven o’clock, after spending more than an hour walking in Hyde Park, and the Viscount reached the house just as they were rising from the breakfast-table. He declined an offer of breakfast, saying that all he wanted was a word with his sister. From his tone Nell was not encouraged to hope that he had hit upon a solution to her problem; and the look on his face warned her that something had happened to put him out of humour. Letty, with deplorable want of tact, informed him that he looked to be as cross as a cat, and demanded to know the reason. He replied that he was not at all cross, but wished to be private with his sister. Since this could only be regarded as a heavy set-down, Letty instantly took umbrage, and a very spirited dialogue ensued, during the course of which several personalities of an uncomplimentary nature were exchanged. The Viscount emerged victorious from the engagement, taking unhandsome advantage of his greater years, and informing Letty, with all the air of a sexagenarian, that pertness was neither proper nor pleasing in chits of her age. Unable to think of anything crushing enough to say in reply, Letty flounced out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

“How could you, Dy?” exclaimed Nell reproachfully. “I never heard anything so uncivil! And if we are to talk of impropriety, you know it is quite improper for you to be scolding Letty! You are not her brother.”

“No, and thank God for it!” he returned. “If she don’t take care she’ll grow into one of those hurly-burly women there’s no bearing.”

“But, Dy, why are you so out of reason cross?”

“I’ll tell you!” he said awfully. “And don’t put on any innocent airs, my girl, because you can’t gammon me, or turn me up sweet by making sheep’s eyes at me! You’ve been playing an undergame, and well you know it! What the devil did you mean by going off to Jew King after I’d told you I wouldn’t have you dealing with a cent-per-cent?”

She looked a little conscience-stricken, but demanded hotly, “Did Felix tell you that? I had not thought he could use me so shabbily!”

The Viscount was incensed with Mr. Hethersett, but he informed his erring sister, in a few pithy words, that she might think herself much obliged to him. He then drew a picture of the horrifying fates that overtook persons so cork-brained as to walk into the clutches of usurers; moralized in a very edifying way on the evils of improvidence; and demanded from Nell a solemn promise that she would never again try to visit Jew King, or any other moneylender. “And if you think jauntering to ruin is something to go into whoops over,” he added wrathfully, “let me tell you that you much mistake the matter!”

“Oh, no, indeed I don’t!” Nell said, trying to speak soberly. “It—it was just that I c-can’t help laughing when you talk like that about being improvident, and careless, and—and all the things you are yourself, Dy!” She saw that this remark had had anything but a softening effect, and said contritely: “I will never do so again! Of course it would be very bad if I were to continue borrowing, but that I had not the least intention of doing. I should have paid the money back after quarter-day, I promise you!”

“I daresay! And have found yourself in the basket again before the cat had time to lick her ear! Don’t I know it!” returned the Viscount, with feeling. “And why the devil you had to meddle, when you knew I had the business in hand, the lord alone knows!”

“Yes, but I thought perhaps it would be better if I did the thing myself,” said Nell frankly. “In case you did anything dreadful!”

“Oh, you did, did you? Coming it too strong, Nell! What the deuce should I do, pray?”

“Well, to own the truth,” she confessed, “I was afraid you might hold someone up!”

“Afraid I might hold someone up?” gasped Dysart. “Well, upon my soul! A pretty notion you have of me, by God!”