"No, that it was not," haughtily spoke Roland Yorke, drawing up his
head with a proud, fierce gesture.

Mr. Galloway withdrew to his private room, and for a few minutes
silence supervened--nothing was to be heard but the scratching of pens.
But Roland Yorke, who had a great antipathy to steady work, and as
great a love for his own tongue, soon began again.

"I say, Channing, what an awful blow the dropping of that expected
money must be for you fellows! I'm blest if I didn't dream of it last
night! If it spoilt my rest, what must it have done by yours!"

"Why! how could you have heard of it last night?" exclaimed Arthur, in
surprise. "I don't think a soul came to our house to hear the news,
except Mr. Yorke: and you were not likely to see him. He left late. It
is in every one's mouth this morning."

"I had it from Hamish. He came to the party at the Knivetts'. Didn't
Hamish get taken in!" laughed Roland. "He understood it was quite a
ladies' affair, and loomed in, dressed up to the nines, and there he
found only a bachelor gathering of Dick's. Hamish was disappointed, I
think; he fancied he was going to meet Ellen Huntley; and glum enough
he looked--"

"He had only just heard of the loss," interrupted Arthur. "Enough to
make him look glum."

"Rubbish! It wasn't that. He announced at once that the money was gone
for good and all, and laughed over it, and said there were worse
disasters at sea. Knivett said he never saw a fellow carry ill news off