Her own people

by B. M. Croker

"Ah!" ejaculated Brian, "and that naturally finished him?"

"Your bête noire, eh, Brian?" said his aunt, "whom you hope to finish!"

"Yes," returned Mr. Lepell, "young Chandos backed his cousin's horses and bills, went security for his debts, and got thoroughly entangled in the web of Lopez, a notorious soucar of evil repute."

"I cannot understand any young man, who is not an idiot, being so completely under the thumb of a cousin!"

"Ah, but you did not know that cousin, my dear sir; his cleverness was something appalling; it was downright uncanny; his manners were irresistible. He was a first-class horseman, a notable billiard player, and he sang like an angel: to hear Sydney Chandos singing affecting ballads after a big guest night, where he had been fleecing youngsters and punishing the champagne, was enough to melt the heart of a stone! His voice stood him in the place of an excellent moral character, and he had the art of making you believe every word he said; in fact, his very tones brought conviction. With all his advantages, he was one of the worst young men who ever set foot in India. He was mixed up in a sultry business about a race, but with his damnable art he contrived to pass on the odium to his cousin—along with the greater portion of his debts—and then went gaily home with a light heart, leaving his wretched dupe to his fate! Much of this came out long afterwards, for Chandos was dumb. He was dumb then, he is dumb now. It was suspected in the regiment, that Paul had some secret drain on him; he had lost his spirits and appeared to be struggling in a hopeless sea of debt; he sold off all his ponies, he cut down his expenses, he even parted with his watch and guns; in fact, he stripped himself bare, and yet the mountain of debt never seemed to decrease; the interest rose up, and up, and up like a spring tide!"

"Of course; it always does," muttered Salwey.

"He had sworn to his cousin to keep his bill-backing a dead secret; he wrote to his uncle imploring assistance—this was sternly refused. Sydney had his own story to tell of Paul's debt, and shortly afterwards his father died. I believe the poor chap was contemplating suicide, as the only way out of his difficulties, when, at a sergeant's ball, he was presented to Miss Rosa Lopez. She was twenty years of age, the belle of the evening—and by all accounts distractingly pretty."

"That I decline to believe," declared Mrs. Lepell, with emphasis.

"Well, you can please yourself, my dear," rejoined her husband, "but she was handsome. Her complexion was a pale olive; her eyes, teeth, hair, and figure, all most attractive; she danced like a sylph, and fell madly in love with poor, unfortunate Chandos! He was extraordinarily good-looking, and no doubt this desperate state of his affairs, added a sort of haggard charm to his appearance. I understand she waltzed with him half the night, and subsequently made all the advances, daily throwing herself in his way, and writing him notes. He was a reckless young fellow, and a chivalrous fool. He, it seemed, had always been his aunt's good boy, and brought up under her influence; this, which made him sensitive, quixotic, and truthful, had earned him the secret ill-will and envy of his cousin.

"By and by, it transpired that Rosa's father, Juan Lopez, was unfortunately but too well known to Lieutenant Chandos. Miss Rosa was an ambitious girl, strong-willed, passionate, and desperately in love with the handsome young cavalry officer. Her father was easily enlisted on her side, and was prevailed upon to make an offer to Rosa's lover. He proposed to release Paul Chandos from his debts and bonds, provided he made Rosa Lopez his wife.