'I have had more than one annoying letter,' he said, with a kind of gasp, and paused.
'About money—of course?' said Lord Aberfeldie.
'One was a threat from a tailor,' replied Holcroft, making a terrible effort to appear facetious, 'who says if I don't pay him he will take means to make me do so.'
'And you?'
'Wrote back that I was delighted to hear he had the means, as this was more than I had.'
'Well, my dear fellow, your father was one of my oldest friends; for his sake can I square it for you?'
'Oh, Lord Aberfeldie, don't think of that!'
'What's the total?'' asked the other, opening a davenport.
'Close on £500,' said Holcroft, with an effort, which certainly was an emotion, but not gratitude.
'There, Holcroft—pay me when you can, or choose,' said Lord Aberfeldie, throwing down his pen, closing the davenport, and handing a cheque for the sum named to his guest, to stop whose thanks he plunged at once into the inevitable story of the charge of the Black Watch along the Kourgané Hill; how he fell wounded; and how, but for Holcroft's father, 'a squad of infernal Russians,' et cetera, and so forth.