"Why?" asked Cuthbert sharply.

"Oh," replied Basil, confused, "because I agree with you.
A gambler will not make a good lawyer--or a good husband
either," he added in an abrupt tone. "Good-day. I'll tell
Juliet," and he was off before Mallow could find words to
answer his last remark.

Cuthbert, walking back to his rooms, wondered if it was on
account of the gambling that Mrs. Octagon objected to the
marriage. He really did not gamble much, but occasionally he
dropped into Maraquito's house, and there lost or won a few
pounds. Here he had often met Basil, and without doubt the
young man had told his mother. But he could hardly do this
without incriminating himself. All the same, Basil was a
thorough liar, and a confirmed tattler. He might have
blackened Mallow's character, and yet have told a story to
exonerate himself. His friendship appeared feigned, and
Cuthbert doubted if he would really tell Juliet of the
appointment.

"That young man's in trouble," thought Mallow, "he is anxious
about Hale, and I shouldn't wonder if that respectable person
had lent him a large sum of money. Probably he counts on
getting the money from Juliet, should she inherit the fortune
of Miss Loach. Also he seems annoyed that I should have been
in Caranby's unfinished house at night. I wonder what he
would say if he knew my reason for going there. Humph! I
must keep that quiet. The only person I dare tell is Juliet;