A CONFIDENTAL AGENT:

CHAPTER VII.

CHAPTER VIII. GENTLEMKS OF FASHION,

BY JAMES PAYN, author of "By Proxy," "Under One Roof," " Walter's Word," "High Spirits," Etc.

MOOR STREET,

Moon Street, Mayfaik, "ihat fashion able," as Mr Rutherford would have called it, that it is not only free from Shops or lodging houses, but oven from the intrusion of a Private Hotel. Every house is what in the auctioneers' catalogues is described as a "Family Mansion —grim, austere, and covered with the "blacks" of many seasons—and though in some cases the "family " which the " mansion" accommo dated must have been very limited, or have packed very tightly, the samoairof fashion sat on the leust as on the greatest. It was no doubt in one sense a quiet street; no omnibus ever approached it uearer than Piccadilly, and no organ-grinder dared to ply his dreadful trade in it, on account of the sensitive ears of its Laly Honorias and Wilhelminas ; until the afternoon, too, its inhabitants were mostly asleep, but for the rest of tlie day, and all through the night, it must be confessed that they made a con siderable noiso of their own. There was a ceaseless champing of steeds, and clatter of steps, and rolling of wheels, from three p.m. to three a.m. ; and as the time drew ou to the latter hour there were ajjoniscd cries for Lady So-aud-So's carriage—the coachman and footman of which were both at the "Red Posts" round the corner, which had1 a, special license for lato hours on account of this patronage of the Aristo cracy. The dulness and lifelcssncss of the mom ing-i in Moor-street ottered so strong a con trast with the doings of the night, that that alone would have proved the quality of its tenants; but the dillerence between the appearance of the placo in and out of tho season was still more striking. In tho one case it was Vanity Fair, tyith the booths shining, and the bands playing, and invita tions (on embossed note-paper)' to "walk U p " —and in tho other it was Sahara. But the very last house to roll up its caqxsts, and withdraw its awnings from the pave ment, and go into brown holland, was Sir Charles and Lady Pargitcr's. Sir Charles hated the country till the grouse-shooting began, but her ladyship hated it at all times. In town she felt that she and hor diamonds showed to most advantage—and the sun and the moon and stars, and all that they shone upon, were, as compared ■with this consideration, of very small ac count with her. Her passion for gaiety ■was unquenchable, and though her respect for fashion forbad her to appear in proper time at anyplace of amusement, she always reaped the curses of tho bandsmen by re maining to tho very last. You always knew when she hail reached home by tho instantaneous lighting up of tho first lloor, ■which in her absence was wrapped in gloom : some said this 1 arose from a certain frugality of disposition she had inherited from her father, but others saw the finger of pride in it; and indeed at Partiger Park, her country residence, a flag on the roof was raised or lowered, to indicate when sho was at home or not, exactly as happens on tlie round tower at Windsor.

When, therefore, on the present occasion, Air llutherford observed, "I'm blessed if she's come home," he had a good reason in the gloom t>f the mansion for his benedic tion ; and ho and his fare had to wait accordingly, as had often happened before. Among other talents of •' honest John " ■was the imitation of knocks at hall-doors as delivered by the menials of distinguished visitors, and his summons was so successful as generally to produce at No.. 10, as now, the .hall-portev, and two cauary-coloured footmen with a roll of carpet, under the im pression that their master and mistress had arrived in their usual state. On perceiving their mistake, the obsequious appearance of all three at once underwent a change ; tlio porter retired disdainfully into Ms carved chair, and one of the canary-coloured footmen took himself and his majestic legs into a neighbouring bower: while the other, with a face that betrayed his sense of the indignity, marshalled the confiden tial agent of Messre. Star and Signet into what was termed her ladyship's waiting room. This was a small apartment, lined with tapestry, immediately contiguous to her boudoir—from whicß, indeed, it was sepa rated but by a curtain, itself only partially closed. There were a cAliplc of wax candles on the table, which feebly lit up the Jaded colours of the ancient needlework on the walls; there was neither book nor flower to attract the eye, or to relieve the tedium of a watch, the length of which depended on the caprice of a woman. As he had been detained more than once long after the hour appointed for him to fetch the dia monds, Matthew was wont to bring some favourite volume to beguile tho time, but on this occasion he had forgotten to do so. Impatient at his employer's delay, and unable (from loathing of his errand] to con centrate his thoughts upon their usual topic, he had thrown himself into a chair, and was casting his eyes moodily about him, they suddenly rested upon a picture standing on the floor in au obscure corner of ihe room. It was no doubt a new acquisition, for which.no place had yet been found in the town-house, or which was destined for Pagiter Park. Matthew took one of the candles, and stooped down to examine the picture, which at once riveted his attention in a manner scarcely to be explained by its intrinsic merits. It was indeed, though of large size, a very moderately executed water-colour painting of a ruined ball or castle: a rustic bridge and river, over which,at some dis tance towered the stately pile, occupied the foreground; there were cattle feeding in the fields, a boat tied to the river bank, and other accessories. There was neither thought nor skill in the work, but it was one of those pictures which "look like" what they are intended for, and therefore rarely fail.to satisfy the common eye. "It is old Latlrury Hall to the life," murmured Matthew, with a certain pathos, very un xxsnal with him, in his tone; "and there is the bridgo—alas I alas!" and he sighed heavily. His eyes were on the canvas, but beheld other objects than those depicted on it. When "he was Very young—scarcely more than a boy, indeed-that bridge had been a hallowed spot to him ; and though all that hallowed it, Youth, Purity, and Love, had fled, and been desecrated, the memory of the place was still green and tender yet in him. For there he had met his first love, and given her his first kiss. They had parted long since : she had gone her own wilful way, as he indeed had gone his ; and there was no want of loyalty to his Sftbey in the sigh that broke from him. It was in pity not for himself But for another that he sighed and pondered. So strongly was he enchained by recollec tion that he was quite unconscious of a sudden blaze of light in the adjoining room,

as likewise of a quick step and a sweeping train upon the floor, until he saw Lady Pargiter standing beside him in hor dia monds. ' ... Sho was a tall gaunt woman, and in her stiff white silk and lace and jewels looked like enough to a spectre (of the fashionable class) to have alarmed anybody; but Mat thew Helston was startled, not from fear, but f torn a species of shame, because ho had been discovered taking what would be ctm sidorcd a liberty under the last roof in all Christendom where he would wish to lie under any such imputation. He rose quickly to his foot, and, as he put down the candle, murmured some apologetic words. Lady Pargiter listened like a snow woman clumsily constructed by rustic hands, but upon whose neck the winter has placed its glittering jewels of frost and ice. "You Forget your place," was what her face said j then he added in words, " Perhaps you wills take that picture into tho next room." Her tone was bo insolent that under any other circumstances Matthew might have hesitated to obey her ; but he felt that in so doing he was only paying a just penalty for his late indiscretion : lifting the large frame with both hands, he therefore carried it in, ttnd was about to place it on the floor agaiust the wall, as before,'when she called out, "Put it on. the table, and hold it there a moment." The size of the picture was such that his lace was thus completely hidden, nor could ho see the other occupants of tuc apartment, of whom, as his ear at once informed him, there was at least one beside her ladyship. "Oh, that's capital! " exclaimed a cheer ful voice ; " I should bavo known tlie old place anywhere." It was fortunate for Matthew Helston that his face was hidden when he heard those words, for the voice that spoke them awakened grave and bitter memories. "Bo so good as to hold the pioture straight," exclaimed Lady Partiger petu lantly ; for it was swaying from side to side, through the tremulous passion of him who held it. "So you really thiuk it a good investment, Major ?" she went on in that would-be playful tone which women of fashion use to their intimates.

" Nay, I am no judge of that," answered the other lightly ; " I only undertook to tell you whether it was like or not. It is the old hall itself."

" You know it well, of course ?"

" Oh, perfectly ; it is but a stone's throw from the Duke's lodge-gate." "And you are often at the Duke's?" This she said with a pleased purr, as though it gratified her to converse with one who was intimate with so great a man.

"I used to be," said he with a hidden touch of gravity that did not escape his un seen listener. " I have not been his visitor very recently. Tt is not likely, however, that thero arc any clianges in the old ruin." The Major was not alluding to his Grace, but to the hall, on the picture of wliich they were both still gazing, " No "onellives there, of course," she In quired. It was a part of Lady Pargitei's character to feel an interest in what belonged to her—and |though Latbury Hall did not do so, this couutcrfeit presentment of it did, which was a sufficient Dond.

"Oh, no," was the careless reply. " There is a care-taker, of course, employed by the miller who lives on the river. " Why didn't the man put in the mill ? " inquired Lady Pargiter, with an injured air j " it would have been a great improve ment."

" I am not sure of that," answered the Major;" it would have drawn away one's interest from the main subject; and, be sides, it is not in sight from the point where the sketch was taken." There was not only a coldness in his tone, but an evident distaste for the topic. " Well, it is growing lute, Lady Pargiter," he said abruptly ; "I will wish you good night, or rather good morning." "Goodnight, Major. Be so good as to send my husband up to me; tell him I will only detain him for a moment, and that he may bring his cigar with him." In one of the mirrors with which the room was lined Matthew Helstono saw the Major depart—a handsome fellow, clean limbed and tall, and with features so regular and' delicate that the long tawny moustache only just saved them from effeminacy; in reality, ho was of about Hclston's age, but, like him, much older in appearance, only liis looks had not been acquired by thought or care, and if they had grown upon him through disappoint ment it was not the disappointment of wrecked hopes, but of satiety.' For Major Frederic Lovell might almost have said (with one more famous, but of the same class) that " he had had enough of every thing," by which ho would have meant, in the main, of things that he had much better havo been without, and of some of which it might have been said that it would have been better far had they perished in the using. That the lines of life of such a man and those of Matthew Helston should have crossed was strange, their planes being so different—but they had done so. So immersed was he in sad memories roused by the late presence of this man, as things from the depths of a sluggish stream will rise long after that has gone which stirred them, that not only the steps of Sir Charles Pargiter upon the well-carpeted jjtairß failed to reach his ear, but the whis pered, "Hulloa, whom have we here?" which that gentleman addressed to his wife, " It is only the person from Messrs Star and Signet, answered Bhe, sharply, an noyed, doubtless, that anything—and es pecially anything of such small consequence —should have attracted her husband's at tention from the object to which she would have directed it.

"Did they send this picture, then?" inquired he. " No, no: what docs it signify ? How stupid you are ! I want your opinion upon its merits."

"But if I'm so stupid what can be the value of it ?" inquired Sir Charles, puffing slowly at his cigar. His eyeglass Was in his eye, but his blonde bearded face was quite destitute of any critical expression. It seldom wore any, indeed, at all, save that of careless good nature—except when his wife annoyed him, as slie was doing •now. He had been summoned from his brandy and spda to look at one of the bar gains on which she prided herself, but in which he himself took no sort of interest, And she had called him stupid before a stranger. To do Lady Pargiter justice, she was unaware of having offended in the latter respect, for though, she herself was quite conscious of the presence of '" the person from Messrs Star and Signet" (and even favoured him with her dislike), she had that exalted idea of good birth and good breeding in others—such as her husband—' that she considered'him to he utterly in different to such a circumstance.

"Yoti^are very civil, Sir Charles, I'm sure," s'ftid she, for she never failed to give him his brand new title even when most displeased with him. "If the picture were of some wretched racehorse it would excite your interest, I'll warrant." As Sir Charles stood sideways to the table—partly, perhaps, to express his in difference to the object upon it--Matthew could see him distinctly, and when the word "racehorse" was mentioned he noticed the blonde face grow red, and the smooth forehead pucker into an unmistak

able frown. A disciple of Layater would perhaps have discerned in Sir Charles's features some turn of the nostril or droop of the chin which betokened determination of character; but, turn or no turn, droop or no droop, it was the fact that on certain .rare occasions the good-natured baronet could be what some persons called " nasty," and others "as obstinate as the devil," Perhaps his wife saw that this was one of them, for she. suddenly exclaimed with irritation, " There, that will do; you can take away the picture." The colour rushed to Matthew Helston's face, and words of bitterness to his lips, but ere he could litter them Sir Charles stepped forward with, "Permit me to assist you, sir. My wife has forgotten for the moment that you are not in her ser vice."

Lady Pargiter's face was always red, but it changed to a deeper colour, as though a poppy should become a carnation, at hor husband's words. Not a syllable did she speak, but, whUe the two men were placing the picture against the wall, began taking oiFher diamonds, and putting them in the jewel-case that stood beside her. Her hands trembled as she didjj so, and threw their glancing rays to left and right. It was a strange scene, for tho mirrored room was, brilliantly lit, up, and showed half-a dozen Lady Pargiters, and a thousand sparkling crystals. When she had taken them from her ears and neck, and their flame was quenched by the lid of the jewel case, she literally appeared to have " gone out" like any poor farthing candle, "There they are, sir; take them," Matthew did so, with a certain appear ance of respect—which was paid, not to her, but to her husband. She looked so cross and so uncomely, so conscious of the reproof that had been administered to her, and yet so unrepentant of the offence that had drawn it forth, that he pitied the possessor of such a wife from the bottom of his heart. In haste to relieve him from the embarrass ment of his presence, quite as much as from his own desire to quit her presence, ho was going away with the jewels, when the shrill voice of Lady Pargiter recalled him, "The receipt, Mr Helston—where is the receipt ?" she said with vehemence. "It lies on your table, madam." He had placed it there _as he took the diamonds, but in her passion she had not observed that he liad done so. '

" Oh ! I thought you might have made a forget of it." ;j The ungraciousness of her tone was even greater than that of her words, and as she spoke them she turned her back upon Mat thew! "One moment, Mr Helston," said her husband, stepping forward, as the other moved towards the door. '^JLady Pargiter has made a forget of something—her ,good manners. Permit me to apologise for her, and to beg your pardon.1

Tuk circumstances attendant upon Mat thew Helston's late visit to Moor-street' were of course exceptional ones. His errands thither were always accompanied by something unpleasant, but he had never met wiUi such rudeness from Lady Pargiter as on the occasion in question. Yet, curiously enough, his sense of humiliation ns he left her door that night was not so keen as usual. In the first place her con duct had been resented by her own husband, who, whatever his faults, had behaved like a gentleman to him, and, in seeking pardon for his wife's rudeness, had obtained it, perhaps, more easily than her ladyship would have done herself; and, secondly, Matthew's mind was distracted from his own wrongs by the consideration of those of another person. We.have hinted that in the spring-time of Ms life he had formed.an attachment, which, if not a "grande passion," was for tlie tnno an absorbing one. Young as he was when he married, he had had time (and opportunity), before he had ever set eyes on his Sabey, to fall in love with PhoJbe Mayson, the pretty daughter of the miller of Latbury, who. living hard by the old hall, had the privilege of showing its ruins to strangers—an oib.ee generally filled by his housekeeper, but sometimes entrusted to Plitebe herself: she was so very younc, that there appeared to be no harm in it; and besides she did not perform that office for every passer-by, but only for those who came from "the Castle," and were the guests of the Duke himself, her father's landlord. Matthew, of course, had not himself become acquainted with her in the capacity of cicerone. His first meeting with her was when, as a mere boy, he had obtained leave to fish in "the Lat'" and in throwing the fly from the mill-dam ho had been caught himself. It was no wonder, and indeed, the most likely thing in the world to happen; for, notwithstanding his mathematical tastes, he was very_ impres sionable ami of great simplicity, and Phoebe was as fresh and beautiful as any lily-bud of the Lat. His passion was reci procated, but not in equal measure, or rather, perhaps, the young lady had an unusual supply of the article, and distri buted the surplus to other objects: for even Matthew was obliged to confess to himself that she was something of a-flirt. Under any circumstances, it is probable that their attachment would have come to nothing, for she did not appreciate what was best in his character, and must in time have showed it; but as it was, the bond! was snapped in a, very sad and sudden manner. She ran away with Captain Frederick Lovel, on one of his frequent visits to the Duke of Latbury, which was the reason (as Matthew was well aware when he heard him speak of it) that the former gentleman had not gone to "the Castle " for some time, nor was likely to go. On that very bridge, portrayed in -Lady Pargiter's new purchase, Matthew had on one occasion aeen ihem together, and been scon by both; but the Captain had only shown his white teeth in amusement, and not auger, at his boyish wrath, and Phoebe had subsequently stifled his suspicions with a reassuring kiss. At that time she had perhaps no intention of playing him false; but his studious ways and thoughts were by no means so much to her taste as the Captain's gay and genial.manners; and then he was the guest of a Duke, and had promised to make a great lady of her. Whether he ever promised to make her his wife was doubtful to many people, but Matthew Helston had no doubt of it, and hated the man who had robbed him ot his love and" ruined her, as a thief and a liar. AYliother Major Lovell—for he had got his "step " since then—had recognised him or not in Lady Pargiter's boudoir he did not know; but he believed he had done so, and that the recognition had caused his abrupt departure. At all events, Matthew had recognised him; and the circumstance had aroused many a bitter and indignant thought within him. What a world was this wherein a perjurer and seducer was taken by the hand by a fine lady, and admitted to her friendship, while for an honest man like himself she had nothing but rudeness and insults! Though it was on the Major rather than on Lady Pargiter that his mind was mainly dwelling, Matthew was re solved to tell Mr Signet on the morrow that he must find some one else to do his errands in Moor-street.

When the cab took him to Paulet-street, it was already astir with early traffic; and as he let himself ia at the private door, the morning light was pouring' in through many a crack and cranny. If it had been mid-winter, indeed, he would have found no difliculty in finding his way about the "show-room," which all night long was brilliantly illuminated; through the glass door on his left he could see the strong light shining on many a costly jewel - and so could the policeman on his beat without. For Mr Signet adopted all the newest im provements in vogue for the preservation of his property, and one of them, as every body knows, is ■to put iron bar's to one's shop window, but no shutters. The pre caution was considered sufficient for his ordinary stoctin-trade; but his more pre cious possessions were guarded in a manner peculiar to his own establishment, and after a plan invented by Matthew Helston him self. We have said that ' his Uncle Stephen's recommendation had gained him his post at Mr Signet's but this was not the whole truth; it had procured him employment with that gentleman in the first instance, but his present position of "confidential agent" (as his employer termed it) was due (in combination, of course, with his character for trustworthi ness) to his own mathematical intelligence. He had constructed for Mr Signet a place of security for his most valuable possessions on a plan entirely his own, and which had met with that gentleman's approval as far as any invention not his own had ever been known to meet it. For Mr Signet was not one to squander his eulogiums, and besides, he had himself a turn for practical mathematics, and we know that "two of a trade,' even, when they chance to agree, do not form a mutual admiration society. The safe of Messrs Star and Signet—tbe mere receptacle, that is, of their choicest and rarest wares, in the centre of which the Pargiter diamonds (worth all the rest togetbor) reposed, when not adorning the. person of their fair owner—was, of course, aa solid and strong as smiths could make it. The locks were at oncer complicated and simple, impossible to pick, yet working.as easily as a watch-key; if not absolutely impregnable, it was a fortress to defy assault by ■fire or file, though applied against it for whole days together; yet it had not inspired sufficient confidence in Mr Signet, who had built a strong room for it, and about the time of Matthew Hel ston's accepting service with him, which happened to be coincident ■vyith the firm's arrangement with Lady Pargiter, had begun to entertain doubts of the strong-room.

For what satisfaction could it be to him (reflected Mr Signet) to know that, humanly speaking, Tie had taken all precautions, if by some devilish craft that safe should be opened, and he should lose his jewels, and become responsible for those of'her lady ship to boot! His own crude idea was, with Matthew's aid, to construct trap-doors all round the object in question, through which any "would-be burglar should straightway fall and perish .in some pit prepared for him. "But suppose some poor wretch should; lose Ins life by those very means—or even by mistake ?" pleaded Matthew. " Well, a deuced good thing, too," was his employer's reply; " I can't conceive a more excellent advertisement for our estab lishment."

But his new assistant had conscientious scruples ; a circumstance which even in a foreman would have been indiscreet, but in a mere journeyman was little short of dis gusting. Unhappily from his birth Mat thew Helston had indulged himself in. the luxury of a conscience, and he did not understand that in reduced ciicumstances that is one of the first things a man is expected to "put down." ~ A curious example of his sense of duty had happened when he was leaving Tarl ton ltcctory one evening for his home at Latbury. He took a short cot aciossthe kitchen garden, where a mastiff had been let loose to check certain depredations in the melon beds, a fact of which he was in conveniently reminded by being flung to the ground and finding the animals teeth in his neckcloth. Though of delicate con stitution, Matthew was physically strong, and after a short struggle He contrived to reverse positions with die- animal, whom he got under Mm, and kept there until, after much calling for help, lie obtained it. The Eector, shocked at what had nearly been a catastrophe—for, however good for m'elon-stealers, the discipline had been somewhat severe upon a dinner guest—in quired why Matthew suffered himself to be mauled by the mastiff, when he could have throttled Jiim, as it seemed with compara tive ease. • -. . : ;■."•■■ I

" The dog was only doing,his duty, sir," replied Matthew simply. A rejoinder which, however iust, was considered by his host {who liked ■ his " duty " done/or him whenever possible) not a. little quixotic. On the occasion of which we are speak ing Mr. Signet entertained a similar view of Matthew's scruples; but as he needed his help, he was compelled to give way to them; and his assistant had made the strong-room after his.own 'fashion. • It was thither that Matthew now bent his way, with a lighted candle in his left hand, and his right in the neighborhood of his revolver. , For it must be recorded to his credit that, co long as the vPargiter parure " (as Mr Signet lored to call it) was in his possession, he never lost sight of its importance, nor of the possibility of some desperate attempt being made to transfer the ownership to other hands; in particular,' while the tiling was in his charge, he never suffered his thoughts to wander to Madge, being well aware of her power of monopo lising them. * Arrived at the strong-room door, which was of solid iron, ho entered, and quickly closed it behind him. The apartment was on the ground floor, and at the back of the premises,- it had no window; and no one ever entered it, save Mr Signet, the fore nian, and himself The safe stood almost in the centre, opposite the door, and anyone wishing to approach it would have natu rally stepped straightforward. Matthew, •however, stepped to the right, and kept close to the right-hand wall, exactly as -if the middle of the room had been a flower garden, and had a gravel walk around it. If hd had done otherwise he would have set a gong in motion that would in an instant have brought down two shopmen who slept above, and waked half Paulet-street with its alarum; a device not so deadly as Mr Signet's proposed pitfalls, but far more simple, and equally efficacious.

In the door of the safe was a letter lock, whispered in the house to be of the most elaborate construction, and in which Mr , Signet took especial pride, for it was his own invention. The ingenuity of this lock consisted in its not having anything to do with the safe at all; it wa9 merely a subtle artifice to deceive the unlicensed "ope rator," for the safe was opened with an ordinary—though quite inimitable—key. As the light of Matthew's candle fell upon, its contents, it disclosed only some half score of morocco cases, but each of which contained what was valued at a moderate fortune; some of them belonged to the fitm, which was really Mr Signet himself (Star having been long translated to his proper firmament), but othars were pledges—se curity for money advanced to laaies of fashion, who were permitted to wear th6m

as if they were their own on special occa. sionß and tinder certain stringent condi- { tiuns. In the centre was a Uttle vel\tt thi one, set apart for tho "Pargiter parure," ' •where it reigned over the rest, by the high est title —that of superior worth, or market value.

Matthew deposited the ease in its proper '£ place, locked the safe and the, door of the strong-room behind him, and then gave a great sigh of relief. It was; the last time.' I lie had made up Ids mind, that that incu bite should ever weigh upon it. - Then, with weary limbs but with a lightened heart, he •§ steppedinto hiscabforhome. His adventures, however, for the night,. M orraihermorning, wereuotyet over; bnt what was about to happen to him netda a Word of preface. . . .;;•, Though Major Frederick Lovell had left LadyPargiter'sboudoir, aswe have seen, ''IM with considcrable.abrnptness, it was not on :|j£B account of the lateness of Vtbe hour (ashe-jJfjS had pretended) and a virtuous desire to get to bed. As a rule he did not care at what time he retired, thongh he was-very ~ , particular about getting up early—that ife • i'■ to say, he never did it, nor even allowed , himself tube called, The truth was, her ladyship's topic of conversation had beenu displeasing to him. The picture of old Latbury (Jastle_ had 'evoked certain un pleasant memories within him as it bad in Matthew's case, though they were of a different kind. He had behaved badly to'i; many a girl in his time, for which he felt • little remorse; but Phcnbe Mayson's case■.•-■ had been—and alas, as he easilj^guessed, was still—a very hard one. Of course he-. argued,' and for once with some justice, that " the girl had met him halfway," that " if she had not gone wrong with him, she. ■ • would have done so with somebody else,"' &c., &c. but there had been circumstances, in this affair that made it more serious than? others of a like nature. To indulge a pass. ing passion (a fancy,; as he now-called it), «he had outraged, in the opinion of no less^ >> t" a person than the l)uke of Latbury, the : '■ laws of hospitality—for Phoebe was big' tenant's daughter, and the Major had been ', his guest when he eloped with her—and'he^'fli was an outcast from his Grace's Court in consequence. Moreover, ho had loved the girl, so far as he was capable of such an-, emotion, and not only for her beauty : she had a sharp wit and a high spirit,; which he admired even when, he felt their force, as \ in a certain bitter hour (which he well re- ■ membered) when she had flung herself from him, not, without provocation, and ex- - " changed his scorned "protection "for"a life/SS of still greator shame. High birth and;, good society, although of great value as • correctives, or rather sedatives, of such morbid feelings, do not always succeed in stifling self-reproach. And though he had1 only lied to her as gentlemen of the highest. '•' fashion—and honour—are wont to do, hi«. conscience pricked-him. , f Under these circumstances it would have | been the height-of imprudence to go to his-■ ': : rooms at Long's, where he might lie awake- V 4 i for hours with conscience for.his only com panion ; he had been in such straits once or twice before, and had found nothing so beneficial to his moral systemr-onthe'iirin- ciple, perhaps, of counter-irritation—as a, .J " flutter " at the gamins-table, as playing,. that is, for stakes t»r higher than teoinmon,, and much more thaji he could afford. H■ ' v Such is the mawkish milk-and-water- "'•' character of our modern social system that it is difficult nowadays to find a -gambling-'-'f ■ • house in London open after 3-a-m;, ; &nd even ihea it must needs call itself a: club. '•

However, such a club'ho did kuow in Jute---; - street, in the neighbourhood' of" Charing > t Gross, and thither he now bent his steps. It was an establishment to which, of course," he himself belonged, but it was only, in part »•' an aristocratic one; the members of the-' ' "Frobislier,"as some of themselves'(who--: were not. upon .its .committee),f raiikly ao-,-riJ; ■... knowledged, were a." scratch lot."- ■ fThereMa* were some noble lords belonging to", it, .but/.; also a good many persons who were not,- ;;' lords—not even gentlemen, though perhaps t they had all been reckoned such at one-"' time. It-was said of. the club that certain of its members j,carried more about, with* them m their pockets than any other folks./ in London—and that it Svas all the money they had in the world. .This arose from,,; the simple circumstance that tHeir play was high, but their credit was by no means of'"? - ■ the same altitude. There were, of course, ■ ''. little memorandums flying about, in which.. ! the vowels I O_U held, a prominent place, - - but as a rule there was an indisposition .to-'-' "just set that down, my good fellow," the- . good fellow, not without reason, "preferring • V generally to have the money. ■

There was a reading-room and. a writing room in the establishment, each about the size of the private room,in,a hair-dresser's- v -J shop, and not much better furnished; but' the actual necessaries of life were amply provided for: there were two billiard- ■t '■ tables, and the card-room had accommoda tion for fifty persons. •■■ ,•> i, At 3.30 a.m., however, the attendance at- V even the " Frobisher": had; begun to thin, v and when Lovell entered it he found/but a

small company playing their very last game ; * at:unlimited 100 ; they had sworn that e*ach of the previous half-dozen games should be the last, but had been overruled by the; ,' vehement opposition of a certain Captain Langton, who once held a commission in j; : one ; of Her Majesty's cavalry regimente, '■ but-who now levied tribute and made war: upon the world without any authorisation, beyond that of liis own good will and pleasure. He had lost "ahatful of money"'" that night, and was obstinately1 resolved to get it back again, not necessarily from those who had won it from him, but out of somev : body, and the arrival of Lovell was secretly ." .hailed by him with profound satisfaction. ,■_ The Major was not a very frequent visitor- '* to the " Frobisher," but when lie did come ; : it was generally, as on the present occasion, with the intention of "plunging," and . Captain Langton was just in the humour ,„ to accommodate him. •„.; He was a short, rather thick-set man of • about forty years ■of age, with:that air of jauntiness which is so bad a substitute for ■ the liveliness of good humour, and a, grow- ; ing tendency to swagger. '. This last arose not from pride-(for, to say the; truth, he had very little to be-proud of), but from the souse of the necessity of self-assertion., ~ He had never possessed the genial' and agreeable mannerl that made Lpyell a , favourite in the club '(and indeed iiixnany other islaces); and of late years uglystoiies - had cropped up about him, which had , deepened the unfavourable impression re- s ;' gaiding him. Men of strict* honour, even : of the "Frobisher" .kind, turned their ;: faces from him, and declined to "but in (>,.,.,-..., at the same rubber, and if Lovell had been a more frequent visitor to Jutc-strcet,andv known the man equally well, he would, probably have done likewise. As it was, the, Major was not when Lang- ~.»;■; ton, lising from the table with the rest, : ■: proposed a little picquet, the stakes of which should be proportionate to the late- ■ ■ ness of the hour: "One cannot afford to■.•. _ ruin one's constitution for sixpences," as - he playfully obsei-vcd, though" he forgot to ~,;, point out that one of them—the loser must of necessity do even worse. The waiter, who had the appcaranceof a~;■~; man who nevor slept, but was very anxious to try the experiment, here ventured to- * observe that the hour had arrived for closing ,: i the club; whereat the Captain damned^his';- y impudence, wheeled 'his chair to a picqnet . .

STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, FEBRUARY 18 ; 1882.

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