"It is a mere matter of form," Mr. Sheldrake had said; "for as you have no property, and are worth nothing, these bills and I O Us are worth almost as much as waste paper. But I trust to your honour, Alf; I know you'll not let me in. But although I am partial to you, my boy, and like you, and all that, I should be bound to declare, if you pushed me to it, that it is for Lily's sake only I assist you. You don't mind my saying this, do you? It is because I like her, and want her to think well of me--not without deserving it, Alf; I think I deserve it--that I'm disposed to stick to you. You'll have a slice of luck one day, my boy. That tip of yours for the Cup was a bad one; but better luck next time, that's my motto. How much did you lose? O, that wasn't a great deal" (making light of what was a serious sum to Alfred); "you'll soon pull that up. Of course you'll be able to meet that little bill of Staveley's? If I didn't think it was all right, I wouldn't tell you what he said yesterday. He swore that if the bill wasn't paid (what put it in his head that it wouldn't be, puzzles me) he wouldn't hold me accountable, but would come down upon you, and press the money out of you. He's as hard as nails upon some points, is Con Staveley, and he's sore because I've been let in by so many of my friends. He can't make out what makes me cotton to you so; but then he hasn't seen Lily, has he, Alf? or he might alter his tone."
Of course Alfred said he would be able to meet Con Staveley's bill, hoping that meanwhile the slice of luck (which, unfortunately for the hopeful ones, is nearly always figurative) would be cut off Fortune's pudding for him. But it wasn't; and pay-day was drawing near; and he had been borrowing more money of Mr. Sheldrake, some of which he had lost in racing as usual, and some of which he had spent upon himself, and in other ways. So that altogether he was in a bad way, and supposing that Mr. Sheldrake failed him, he did not know where to turn for assistance to float him through his money scrapes. Of one thing he was certain--it depended upon Lily whether Mr. Sheldrake continued to be his friend. He extracted comfort from this thought; for as the word of promise is often kept to the ear to break it to the hope, so he cajoled himself into believing that Lily entertained a warm feeling for Mr. Sheldrake; he believed it because it was vitally necessary to him that it should be so. Still he would make sure. He had a favour to ask of Mr. Sheldrake this very day, and Lily would be able to assist him in obtaining it. Perhaps she would be able to put in a word for him with that gentleman. He absolutely saw nothing wrong in the thought. It was, however, with an uneasy feeling that he commenced the conversation, and he was rather ashamed of himself for going roundabout instead of coming straight to the point.
"I am so glad you are enjoying yourself, Lily."
He could find nothing better to say than this.
"I can't help it, Alfred; it would be ungrateful not to on such a day. And I enjoy it all the more because you have brought me and because you are with me. What beautiful places there are to come to, if one has the time and the money!"
"Yes, and the money," repeated Alfred, with a groan. "Isn't it a shame, Lily, that a fellow can't get as much as he wants?"
"That depends, Alf," answered Lily, with a touch of philosophy which sounded all the prettier from her lips, because she was the last person in the world who would be supposed to be given to philosophising, "upon how much a fellow wants."
"Not much; not a great deal. There are hundreds of people who have more than they know what to do with."
"I think," said Lily, in a musing tone, "one can do with a very little and be very happy."
"You say so because you're a girl; if you were a man you would think different."