“Mama! No, indeed! I should think not! But I had a right to be told, instead of being allowed to go on as though — It is just like you, Charles, to shoulder everything, and to suppose no one can do the least thing but yourself! I daresay there might be a dozen ways in which I could help you! It seems to me that I ought to come down from Oxford at once, and find an eligible post somewhere, or join the army — no, that won’t do, because you would have to buy me a commission, and even if I didn’t join a cavalry regiment, or the Guards — ”

“It certainly will not do!” interrupted his brother, amused, and rather touched. “You’ll oblige me by staying where you are! We are not on our last legs yet. Why, you bacon-brained young idiot, what do you suppose my object is but to see that you and Theodore and the girls don’t suffer through my father’s curst folly? If you choose to help me to run the estate, you may do so, and I shall be grateful, for Eckington is growing past it. I can’t be rid of him, for he has been with us so long that I daresay it would break his heart, but he is of very little use, and I’ve no great degree of confidence in young Badsey yet. Have you a head for business?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll precious soon learn!” replied Hubert with determination. “When I come down for the long vacation, you may teach me. And, mind, Charles! No keeping me in the dark!”

“No, very well. But you are still keeping me a little in the dark, you know. When did you lose all this money? Not lately, surely?”

“At Christmas. Well, I had better make a clean breast of the whole! I went to a rascally moneylender, and I borrowed five hundred from him, for six months. I thought I should have won every penny back, and more beside at Newmarket. But the damnable screw was unplaced!” He saw his brother’s expression, and said, “You need not look like that! I swear I shall never do so again as long as I live! Of course I ought to have come rather to you, but — ”

“You should have come to me, and that you did not must have been far more my fault than yours!”

“Oh, well, I don’t know that!” Hubert said uncomfortably. “I expect if I had been rather better acquainted with you I should have done so. Sophy said I should do so from the start, and Lord, if I’d had the least notion of what she meant to do I would have run to you straight away!”

“Then you did not apply to her for the money?”

“Good God, no! Charles, you can’t think I would borrow money from Sophy?”

“I didn’t think it. But neither did I think we were so ill acquainted that — Well, never mind that! How did Sophy know of this, and if you did not borrow the money from her, why did she sell her earrings?”

“She guessed I was all to pieces. She made me tell her, and when I said I had rather not say a word to you, she offered to lend me the money. Of course I refused! But she knew where Goldhanger lived, and, without telling me what she meant to do, she went to see him herself, and got back my note of hand, and my ring. I had to pledge Grandfather Stanton-Lacy’s emerald, you see. I don’t know how she did it, for she swears he did not pay the old devil a penny of the interest. She is the most redoubtable girl! But I couldn’t stand that, as you may suppose!”

“Sophy went to a moneylender?” repeated Mr. Rivenhall incredulously. “Nonsense! She cannot have done such a thing!”

“Well, she ain’t one to tell fibs, and that’s what she said!” declared Hubert.

Not many minutes later, Sophy, reading in the Yellow Parlour, was interrupted by the entrance of Mr. Rivenhall, who came in and closed the door behind him, saying bluntly, “I seem to be very much in your debt, Cousin. Yes, Hubert has told me the whole. I hardly know what I can say to you.”

“You are not at all in my debt,” replied Sophy. “You have given me back my earrings! There is nothing to be said, in fact! Do you know that Miss Wraxton is in the drawing room with your mother? Lord Bromford, too, which is why I have sought refuge here.”

“There is a great deal to be said,” he replied, disregarding. “I wish to God you had told me!”

“I am persuaded you could not seriously expect me to betray Hubert’s confidence to you. You must not think, however, that I encouraged him to keep you in the dark. I advised him most earnestly to tell you the fix he was in, but he seemed to be in such dread of doing so that I might not persist.” She saw a slightly rigid look on his face, and added, “I believe it is often so, between brothers, where there is a considerable disparity of age. And you are very formidable, upon occasion, are you not?”

“It seems so, indeed. Don’t imagine I am not grateful to you, Sophy! I don’t know by what means you discovered the coil he had tangled himself in — ”

“Oh, it was not so difficult! The poor boy has been looking quite hagridden ever since I came to London! After his return from Newmarket, it was plain to be seen that something of a disastrous nature must have befallen him. He did not wish to confide in me, but a threat to tell you of my suspicions brought the whole, stupid story out.”

He looked at her, his eyes hard and bright. “I know well it is I who should have noticed there was something preying on Hubert’s mind!”

He was evidently deeply mortified; she said, “You have many other things to think about, perhaps. Men do not notice as quickly as women do. I am very glad that he has told you all. Don’t refine too much upon it. I am quite sure that he has had a lesson he will be on no danger of forgetting.”

“I believe you are right. I was used to think him as volatile as — well, I was used to think him volatile, but he has given me reason to indulge the hope that I was mistaken! But, Sophy, I don’t yet know the whole of this deplorable business! Whom did you employ in it?”

“No one, upon my honor!” she assured him at once. “I considered the matter from every aspect, and although I was much inclined, at first, to consult my father’s lawyer, I soon saw that it would not do. There was no one I could apply to without divulging Hubert’s part in the business. So I set about it myself!”

“Sophy, you cannot have gone to this creature yourself!”

“Yes, I did. Oh, I know it was dreadfully fast and bold of me, but I thought nobody would ever know! And then, too, I could not but reflect how much you must dislike Hubert’s affairs becoming known outside our immediate circle.”

She saw that he was looking at her in patent disbelief, and raised her brows inquiringly.

“Hubert has told me enough about Goldhanger to make it perfectly plain to me what sort of man he is!” he said. “Do not tell me he willingly relinquished a note of hand and a valuable pledge to you for no more than the bare principal!”

She smiled. “Most unwillingly! But only consider at what a disadvantage he stood! He had lent his money to a minor and he could not recover a penny of it, at law. I fancy he was glad to see back his principal. The instant I said I would go to Bow Street — a shot drawn at a venture, too — I could see that I had discomposed him. My dear Charles, what Hubert found to alarm him in such a creature I cannot imagine! A bogey to frighten children!”

He was watching her closely, his brows knotted. “This sounds to me pure fantasy, Sophy! From what I collect, this was no accredited money lender, but an out-and-out villain! Do you tell me he made no effort to extort his interest from you?”

“No, he tried to frighten me into paying him or giving him my pearl earrings. But Hubert had warned me with what manner of person I should have to deal, and I took the precaution of carrying my pistol with me.”

“What?”

She was surprised, and again raised her brows. “My pistol,” she repeated.

His mortification again found expression in disbelief. “This must be nonsense! I wish you will tell me the truth! You do not ask me to believe that you carry a pistol about your person! I tell you now that I do not believe it!”

She got up quickly, a sparkle in her eye. “Indeed? Wait! I shall not be gone above a minute or two!”

She whisked herself out of the room, only to reappear very soon afterward with her silver-mounted gun in her hand. “Do you not believe it, Charles? Do you not?” she demanded.

He stared at the weapon. “Good God! ?” He held out his hand, as though he would have taken it from her, but she withheld it.

“Take care! It is loaded!”

He replied impatiently, “Let me see it!”

“Sir Horace,” said Sophy provocatively, “told me always to be careful and never to give it into the hands of anyone I was not perfectly satisfied could be trusted to handle it.”

For an astounded moment Mr. Rivenhall, who was no mean shot, stared at her. The pent-up emotions in his breast got the better of him. He flung over to the fireplace and ripped down from the overmantel an invitation card that had been stuck into a corner of the large, gilded mirror. “Hold that up, stand there and give me that gun!” he commanded. Sophy laughed and obeyed, standing quite fearlessly with her back to the wall, and holding the card out by one corner. “I warn you, it throws a trifle left!” she said coolly.

He was white with anger, an anger that had very little to do with her slighting reference to his ability to handle a pistol, but even as he leveled the gun, he seemed in some measure to recollect himself, for he lowered his arm again, and said, “I cannot! Not with a pistol I don’t know!”

“Faintheart!” mocked Sophy.

He cast her a glance of dislike, stepped forward to twitch the card out of her hand, and stuck it against the wall under the corner of a picture. In great interest, Sophy watched him walk away to the other end of the room, turn, jerk up his arm, and fire. An explosion, deafening in the confined space of the room, shattered the stillness, and the bullet, nicking one edge of the card, buried itself in the wall.