“I shall have to marry Kate after all,” continued Claud, with a bitter laugh. “Do you hear, hated rival? We can’t afford to let the chance go. Oh, I say, Leigh, I wish you’d give me a dose, and put me out of my misery, for I’m about the most unhappy beggar that ever lived.”
“Things do look bad for you, certainly,” said Leigh. “How would it be if you tried for a stewardship to some country gentleman—you understand?”
“Oh, yes, I understand stock and farming generally; but who’d have me? Hanged if I couldn’t go and enlist in some cavalry regiment; that’s about all I’m fit for.”
“Don’t talk nonsense, my lad. Where are you staying?”
“Nowhere—just come up. I shall have to get a cheap room somewhere.”
“Nonsense! You can have a bed here. We’ll go and have a bit of dinner somewhere, and chat matters over afterwards. I may perhaps be able to help you.”
“With something out of the tintry-cum-fuldicum bottle?”
“I have a good many friends; but there’s no hurry. We shall see?”
Claud reached over, and gripped Leigh’s hand.
“Thankye, old chap,” he said. “It’s very good of you, but I’m not going to quarter myself on you. If you have any interest, though, and could get me something to go to abroad, I should be glad. Busy now, I suppose?”