"I've got three pounds here for you, Francis," she said. "And I hope you'll make it last as long as you can—you will, won't you? For I shan't have any more for some little time to come."
He nodded and took the sovereigns from her hand. A touch of compunction visited him as he did so.
"Keep one, Polly," he said. "I don't want them all."
"Oh, yes, you do. And I have no need of money where I am. You'll not spend it all at billiards, or on brandy, will you?"
"No, Polly, I won't. I promise you."
And he meant to keep his promise. But as matters fell out, he was blindly, madly drunk before the same night was out, and he had lost every penny that he possessed over a game at cards. And plunging recklessly across the street, in the darkness of the foggy night, he was knocked down by passing cab, and was carried insensible to the nearest hospital. Where let us leave him for a time in good and kindly hands.
CHAPTER XVIII.
"HER EYES WILL SEND ME MAD."
It was true, as Mrs. Trent had said, that Lesley's face often now wore a look of perplexity and trouble. This look had many differing causes; but amongst them, not the least was the behavior of Oliver Trent.