was pretty well understood amongst the golden youth of our time that a man had not thoroughly gone to "the bad" until he had been to Mr. Wingate Scriven.

He had a wonderful memory and a curious register -a sort of Burke's Peerage, Baronetage and Knightage, combined with that author's County Gentry, and the Army and Navy Lists-annotated. There were few

pages which did not contain notes of those who owed money, or those who by force or otherwise could be made to pay it for them. In this register Captain Willis's name did not figure; but when his card was sent in to Mr. Wingate Scriven, memory supplied the deficiency. Mr. Wingate Scriven was not at all pleased to receive that piece of pasteboard, and the interview that followed its presentation was not a pleasant one. They had both good memories, and there were events in the past of one of them that he did not like to be reminded of. The upshot was that Captain Willis left the "Albany" with a cheque for four hundred pounds in his pocket, bearing Mr. Wingate Scriven's signature, which he forthwith cashed at the London and Westminster Bank. During the next ten days he called twice on Lady Kingclerq, made the acquaintance of Captain Tarrant, whom he invited to dine with him at his club. Mary's soul was troubled the first time she had to receive him alone, but her awe soon wore away, and she got quite vexed with the brown lady for repeating her warnings to beware of him.

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CHAPTER X.

BROKEN DOWN.

THE new curacy—with a cottage-to which the Reverend Tom Somers had been promoted, was in the same parish with "The Mount," where Sir Albert Hornby now reigned supreme. His father, the honest cotton-spinner, was dead, and had left what some people thought an eccentric will behind him. He gave "The Mount" and an annuity of three thousand pounds to his son and heir on condition that he never entered the mill, and he gave the mill to his foreman Martin Jameson upon trust to carry on the business for the benefit of his (the testator's) family as long as his widow lived. Forty thousand pounds was to be put aside out of his savings for Bella's marriage portion, including her share in the mill. These arrangements did not at all suit the new baronet, and caused considerable anxiety to his friend Mr. Wingate Scriven, whose experience of Manchester men had led him to believe that old Hornby would "make an eldest son," or in other words sacrifice his wife and daughter at the shrine of the cub who was to inherit his honours.

The consequence of this misplaced confidence was, that Sir Albert was unable to redeem the post obit bonds he had given his friend in the full assurance that he was going to come in for thousands of ready money on "the governor's" death; and that his friend was obliged to put up with a mortgage on "The Mount" instead of cash. Now, mortgages at 5 per cent. were not in Mr. Wingate Scriven's way.

How had Sir Albert placed himself in these difficulties? In the usual way: by going on the Turf. He thought himself wonderfully knowing about horses, and had to take the inevitable consequences. Other people had to take the consequences too; for the new baronet was not a man to hide his griefs, but vented the illtemper and disappointment they caused him upon his mother and sister, so that their life at "The Mount" became all but insupportable.

At one of Mr. Wingate Scriven's famous little dinners in the Albany, Sir Albert made the acquaintance of Captain Willis, who arrived early, and had an interesting conversation with his host before the other guests arrived, at the end of which the latter observed, "It is just as well to be sure, and the alternative is not a bad one. The girl will have forty thousand on her marriage, and more when her mother dies. He treats them both like a low dog-as he is, and you might win easy. But don't make the running too hot at first, you know, in case

"Exactly. Have you any Angostura bitters ?"

During the dinner that followed Captain Willis made himself very agreeable to the "low dog," and, having lost some money to him at écarté, afterwards quite won his heart. The result was a pressing invitation to "The Mount" for the first of September. "I shall have plenty of game," said its lord; "and look here, old fellow, there'll be no confounded women there, so we can do as we like."

Sir Albert Hornby's card was left by his mother and Bell (whose existence he did not always remember) on the new curate, and in a short time our Tom became a prime favourite with those ladies. "Make the most of your time," said the vicar. "It's a pleasant house 'when the guid man's awa.'

"Is Sir Albert objectionable, sir?" Tom asked.

"You will be able to judge for yourself before long," replied the vicar. And he was right. The first time that Tom visited "The Mount" after the return of the baronet and his friends for the shooting season, he was witness of a scene between that gentleman and his sister which he thus recounted in his weekly letter to Mary Tarrant :- -"The language the fellow used was such as should not be heard in the presence of any woman— I cannot repeat it. And this to his sister, in the presence of half-a-dozen young men! I had half risen to leave the table, for I could not trust myself to stay, when a Captain Willis (whom I am surprised to find the associate of such a man) answered him. It was not so much what

he said, as the calm, cutting manner in which he spoke. Every word came like a lance-thrust. The captain has very handsome and expressive eyes, and the bully quailed under them. You should have seen poor Miss Hornby's look of gratitude as he opened the door for her to pass out. The curious part of it is that Willis remains at 'The Mount.' I suspect that he puts up with the brother's brutality for the sister's sake. She is a charming girl, and has a large fortune."

Mary's correspondent then went on to say how happy he was in his new curacy, how good the vicar was to him, how much there was to be done, and how he was getting on doing it. He sent her a drawing of the cottage and a photograph of the church, and, descending into finance, showed that he could save a great deal out of his two hundred a year. All of which was intended to suggest that the wife of such a curate need not fear starvation. Mary barely glanced over this part of the letter, but she read over and over again that which related to Captain Willis.

She had told Rosey Kingclerq nothing but the truth when she said that this "detrimental" had not by word or look given any cause for that lady's well-meant warning. She had not yet fallen under the glamour of those tender, lustrous wicked eyes; but somehow her heart ached when she read of Miss Hornby-the charming girl with a large fortune-whose champion he had become. Oh how nice it was to be rich, even with a