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but apparently he was listening attentively to the man's remarks.

"You ought to have seen this garden, sir, when my old master, Squire Margrave, had it. You see, his daughter took a great interest in it, and was here and there about it a dozen times a-day. The gentleman as lives here now has never been near it once, and missus has only been twice-and then she never asked a question. She was talking to a foreign-looking gentleman all the time."

Nearly They

"Are they much here?" "What, the foreigner? always, it seems to me. calls him a Baron; but that's what they call 'em all nowadays. I daresay his father played a hurdygurdy. Baron Phlog-that's his name. Maybe you've heard of him, sir?"

"I did not mean the foreigner I meant the Captain and his wife?"

"Well, he's not here much, because he's generally off racing, or up in London. There he is now walking up and down in front of the house-the sporting-looking gent. The other one is him as they call the Baron."

File looked in the direction indicated, and saw that the two persons in question were holding an animated conversation together, and that the "sporting gent" was using a great deal of gesture, and puffing away occasionally at a cigar. The millionaire made up his mind that he would see him a little nearer, but not just then.

"Your old master, Mr Margrave, lived here all the time, did he?"

"Ay, he did. I recollect his father too a sour-tempered old man he was, and never cared for his son, or for anybody else but himself. This Captain and his wife were always around him,

makin' believe that they loved him a precious deal better than their own selves. I daresay it was through that as he made the will we've all heard of. It ain't right to go agin your own flesh and blood; and if the old man had ever seen Miss Kate, he never could have gone agin her, I'll bet you a quart-I mean, I'm quite sure. Why, sir, she was as civilspoken to us all as if we were friends and not servants; and I reckon we were all mighty cast down when she left us.'

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"You reckon, did you say?" "I daresay I did, sir; but I wasn't noticing. Is there anything wrong in that?"

"Nothing-but I thought no one said I reckon' but an American."

"So you're an American, sir? That's the country to live in, according to all I've heard tell. I sometimes think I should like to leave this old place and go there, although I was born and bred on it, and never thought of going from it while Squire Margrave was here. And as for Miss Kate-well, sir, she was like a fine spring morning. It made you feel young again only to look at her. You've seen that sort, I daresay, sir?"

"I almost forget, but I should like well enough to see her."

"And so should I, sir, a-walking on the terrace there instead of that bad lot."

This was nearly all the man had to communicate, and File's curiosity with regard to the house being for the present satisfied, he turned his face once more towards Owlscote. But first he glanced at Captain Tiltoff, and said beneath his breath, "You and I will have something to say to each other yet, my friend -but not till everything is ready. And if that is not very soon, I guess it will not be your fault!"

.

Young Tresham had strolled out to meet the millionaire, and found him slowly plodding along, oblivious of everything but his own reflections.

"Well, you have seen all that you wished? We began to think that you were lost."

"I have not seen all that I wished," said the millionaire, "but all that I could. Does your friend Mr Delvar know those people, the Tiltoffs?"

"Oh yes, he is a great friend of theirs-especially of Mrs Tiltoff. She has many friends."

"I must ask him to introduce me to them. Margrave must have felt it a great blow to leave that house. Have you seen him in London?" File scrutinised Tresham very keenly as he asked the question, which, indeed, was not put at haphazard.

"I am sorry to say that I have not, but it is through no fault of mine. The truth is, he has shown no desire to see any of his old friends. Everybody would have treated him the same as ever; but

I suppose he did not think so. am very sorry for it.

I

"Then you have not cut him, to use your English expression?"

"Cut him? Why should I? You do not understand my feeling towards him, or you would not make such a suggestion."

"I thought perhaps his loss of fortune had cost him what it does all men, the world over-the loss of friends."

"Then let me assure you that you are mistaken. We should all be only too glad to see the Margraves once more among us." Including your mother?"

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"Yes, including my mother," replied the Baronet, looking at his guest with some surprise. They now stood once more within the old hall.

"Then before very long I hope

you

will have your wish gratified," said File, in his slow and distinct way, and with the nearest approach to a smile which was ever seen on his grim visage; and then, with a friendly nod, he beat a retreat to his own room.

CHAPTER XXIV. THE TILTOFFS AT HOME.

It was true enough, as everybody was saying, that matters were not going on well with the new owners of the Grange. A change of fortune had not changed the character of Captain Tiltoff. When all was going wrong with his affairs, he had found no great difficulty in running deeply into debt; and now that it was known he had come into possession of five thousand a-year, it seemed comparatively easy to spend ten. He belonged to two clubs in London which had almost succeeded in taking the place once held by Crockford'sat one of them the favourite game was baccarat, and at the other

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poker. Both presented every opportunity that a man could desire for losing money. Where poker is played, no other game at cards is found to hold its own very long. Whist is too long and too complicated, and even écarté is stupid. People who have been used to express trains would find it slow work to travel constantly by the stage - coach; and the confirmed poker-player has the same feeling in reference to other games. Poker is short, sharp, and decisive, and yet its changes are sudden and unexpected, and the worst player may now and then sweep the board. The boatmen on the Mississippi

river, who have the credit of discovering poker, thought nothing of sitting up all night over it after a long day's work; and if it was not very much that they risked, they might with justice have boasted that they risked all they had. The wealthier frequenters of the London clubs can do no more.

Captain Tiltoff had become an inveterate poker-player; but in that, as in most other gambling enterprises, he was born to be unlucky. Some men, it is said, never pick up a good hand at cards; and most of us have met such persons at a whist-table. Change the suit or change the pack, and it is all the same they invariably scrape up all the rubbish. The American Minister who imported the game into England laid it down that there were two essential conditions to success-good cards, and, as he expressed it, with characteristic directness, "plenty of cheek." It cannot, perhaps, be said that Tiltoff was deficient in the second requisite, but it was not the right sort of "cheek" with which he happened to be endowed. When a bad hand was dealt to him, he could not look as if it were a good one. The great art of poker is to hold a very bad hand, and yet drive all the other players out of the field. This can be done without fear of discovery; for if the other players beat a retreat, the bad hand need never be shown. Occasionally Tiltoff tried to follow the American Minister's rule of "standing pat and betting high," but his face or his restless manner betrayed him; some one invariably decided to "see" it through, and Tiltoff's vain attempt to "bluff" recoiled on his own head. By this pretty little amusement he had contrived to spend his first year's income in less than three months; and he by no means reduced his

other expenses in the effort to make things even. On the contrary, the more he lost at the cardtable, the more he spent elsewhere. The Four Yew-Trees had a master who was on the highroad to ruin.

All this was not hidden from his wife. Stories of his exploits reached her ears through many different channels; but the truth had long since been brought home to her, that she could not hope to exercise any influence over even his smallest acts. The current of their lives ran apart. If there was pleasure to be had, the husband preferred to take it where his wife could not follow him. She, he thought, could do well enough without either pleasure or sympathy. There are some women who can reconcile themselves to a lot of this kind, not only without open murmuring, but without much inward discontent; and for the first few years after her marriage, Beatrice Tiltoff had done so. But it is not the wisest thing in the world for a husband to treat with habitual neglect a woman who is much admired by other men. Tiltoff would have admitted this in any case but his own. His observation of life was neither keen nor profound, but it had been sufficient to show him that the course which he was pursuing sometimes led to a very unpleasant series of events. But the possibility of his supplying a personal illustration of the perils of this course never occurred to his mind. He was aware that his wife was very much alone, for the neighbouring families had shown no great desire to be on intimate terms with them. Nearly all the society which Beatrice had was that which he provided for her during the occasional visits which he condescended to pay to the house; and they had become very occasional, for the Captain himself pre

ferred the comfort of his chambers in St James's Street to the gloomy solitudes of the Grange. When he went into the country, he hated to go alone, and he was always glad to invite Baron Phlog, who amused him, and Delvar the editor, when he could get him. For Delvar was a man who had no lack of invitations, especially now that his party were in power, and that his newspaper had come to be regarded as an organ of the Government. Then there was a Captain Bantam, a fussy little warrior with a squeaky voice, who had succeeded in persuading himself that he was a greater tenor than Mario in his palmy days, and who was perpetually singing "Good-bye, sweetheart" to Mrs Tiltoff, with a vague idea that she would not be able to stand out long against his captivating strains. For Baron Phlog this enamoured vocalist had a particular aversion, which he took no pains to conceal from his host. Out of these materials, poor Beatrice had to extract what amusement she could; and it was not surprising that, under the circumstances, the diplomatist had come to be considered by her as the best friend she had in the world.

He was always so patient with her-always so appreciative and sympathetic. He was aware of her troubles, and had a way of making known his sorrow for her hard lot which went to her heart, while it never was obtruded in such a fashion as that it could wound her pride. Pity she would have resented; but this gentle, veiled, unexpressed but unmistakable sympathy-there was nothing to resent in that. She felt that the Baron understood the burdens which weighed upon her, and that, had it been possible, he would have taken them upon himself rather than have seen her

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suffer under them. least, she was not undervalued. Woman must have some one to lean upon, and Beatrice knew from bitter experience how vain it was to look even for true friendship, much less for love, from her husband. He was very well satisfied to throw her into the society of Phlog, for then she was troubling him with her complainings and remonstrances. There are households in which a similar state of affairs may exist for some time without disaster, but it is not safe to assume that disaster will never come.

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Now it had happened that the animated conversation between Tiltoff and the Baron, which File had observed at a distance, was occasioned by the difficulties in which the worthy Captain just then found himself involved, for this was a case in which husband and wife somehow reposed unhesitating confidence in the same adviser. toff looked upon the diplomatist as a remarkably safe man-he had seen a good deal of the world, and could be trusted. It pleased Phlog to think that he was so regarded; and to do him justice, the advice which he gave to the Captain, when it was invited, was eminently conducive to the interests of the family. Had Tiltoff taken it, he would have exchanged a hazardous road for a safe one.

"The fact is," Tiltoff had said, "I am getting into a tight place, Baron. The Two Thousand went all wrong with me, as you know; and ever since then, I have been deuced unlucky at the club. Talking of that, how is it you never look in upon us now?"

"I have given up cards-for the present."

"We went it a little too strong, eh? You heard that little Bantam in there"-the Captain made a

motion with his thumb towards the drawing-room windows-" lost a couple of thousand the other night?"

"To you?"

"No such luck; I only wish it had been for between ourselves, he has got my paper to a pretty stiff amount in his pocket, and I wish I had it back in mine. Bantam is not a creditor I should have picked out for choice. Never owe any money to a man who is hard up himself. That little poor beggar has not a penny to bless himself with, and yet nothing will keep him away from the green table. What do you say to such a fellow as that?"

"I should say," said the Baron, rolling a cigarette slowly, "that he must be what you call an ass."

"That's just it; but all the same, he has got my I O U's in his pocket-half-a-dozen of them --and I cannot take them up. By Jove!" added the Captain, as a new light seemed to dawn upon him, "perhaps you will say that I am no better than he is- an ass too, eh?"

"My dear Captain, you are a very different man. Do not let us talk of you and your friend there in one breath. By the by, what has become of Mr Delvar?"

"I left him in the drawing-room talking to my wife. You know she is an old friend of his knew her before her marriage, I believe. And I wish he had married her himself." But these last words were not uttered in a tone which was intended for the Baron's ear.

"Clever man," said the diplomatist, who generally spoke well of everybody. "All editors are

clever!"

SO

"Well, they all think they are," remarked the Captain; "don't know half so much as they fancy

they do, according to my idea. These fellows are stirring up a pretty mess for us in England,don't you think so?"

"I have so little knowledge of your politics," replied the diplomatist, with an innocent smile, "that I cannot judge. But let us come back to yourself, my dear Captain Tiltoff. If you find that your losses inconvenience you, why not imitate my humble example, and sound a retreat from the field?"

“Because I must have money." "Pardon me. That seems a poor reason for continuing to lose it."

"Ah, but I shall not always go on losing. Luck is bound to take a turn. Some of these nights I shall make a big coup, and get straight again, and then I will give it up finally-I will, I promise you."

"Well, that is good. But if I were you, I think I would cut short my losses, as the great banker of my country said, and get out of it at once."

"And how would you meet my liabilities?"

"By retrenchment," said the Baron, simply.

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