"There were a few words, and I was
hasty. However, I begged his pardon, and we parted good friends."
"Under a flag of truce, eh?"
"Something of that sort."
"Something of that sort!" repeated Lord Hartledon. "Don't you think, Val,
it would be to your advantage if you trusted me more thoroughly than you
do? Tell me the whole truth of your position, and let me see what can be
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.
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