done for you."

"There's not much to tell," returned Val, in his stupidity. Even with his
brother his ultra-sensitiveness clung to him; and he could no more have
confessed the extent of his troubles than he could have taken wing that
moment and soared away into the air. Val Elster was one of those who
trust to things "coming right" with time.

"I have been talking to the doctor, Val. I called in just now to see Mrs.
Ashton, and he spoke to me about you."

"Very kind of him, I'm sure!" retorted Val. "It is just this, Edward. He
is vexed at what he calls my idle ways, and waste of time: as if I need
plod on, like a city clerk, six days a week and no holidays! I know I
must do something before I can win Anne; and I will do it: but the doctor
need not begin to cry out about cancelling the engagement."

"How much do you owe, Val?"

"I can't tell."

Lord Hartledon thought this an evasion. But it was true. Val Elster knew
he owed a great deal more than he could pay; but how much it might be on
the whole, he had but a very faint idea.

"Well, Val, I have told the doctor I shall look into matters, and I hope
to do it efficiently, for Anne's sake. I suppose the best thing will be
to try and get you an appointment again."

"Oh, Edward, if you would! And you know you have the ear of the