'It is an excellent thing, my dear Eugénie, for a young man to be kept on tenterhooks. Otherwise they soon get above themselves.'
'You have driven him into debt, papa.'
'What on earth do you mean?'
'I have been questioning Mr. Cuningham. He doesn't know, but he thinks Mr. Watson has been lending him money.'
'Artists are always so good to one another,' said Lord Findon, complacently. 'Nice fellow, Watson—but quite mad.'
'Papa, you are incorrigible. I tell you he has been in great straits. He has not been able to buy a winter overcoat, and Mr. Cuningham suspects he has often not had enough to eat. He does illustration-work the greater part of the night—et cetera.'
'The way you pile on the agony, my dear!' said Lord Findon, rising. 'What I see you want is that I should write the check, and then go with you to call on the young man?'
'Precisely!' said Eugénie, nodding.
Lord Findon looked at her.
'And that you suppose is your own idea?'