"Not a penny—at the moment. My supplies have not reached my new address."
And Hoffland laughed.
"Let me lend you some. How much will you have? We are friends, you know, Charles, and you can have no feelings of delicacy in borrowing from me. See," said Mowbray, taking out his purse, "I have a plenty of pistoles. Take a dozen."
"And how many will you have left?"
"Let me see—there are thirteen. I shall still have enough. There are twelve, Charles."
And he counted them out, leaving the single coin in his purse.
Hoffland, however, drew back, and obstinately closed his hands.
"You ought to be ashamed to tempt an inexperienced youth to go in debt," he said; "that is your fine guardianship, Mr. Mowbray."
"Come, Charles; this is folly. You do not become my debtor; I do not want the money. Take it, and repay it when your own comes."
"No, I will not. But still I want a pair of gloves. Do me a greater favor still, Ernest. Give me those pretty fringed gloves you wear, and which are plainly too small for your huge hands. I know Miss Lucy gave them to you, for she said as much the other day—I asked her!—and now I want them. Don't refuse me, Ernest; my hand is much smaller and handsomer than yours, and they will just fit me."