"Do you want some money?" asked Westguard bluntly.
"Sure, Karl, oodles of it! But not from you, old chap."
"You know you can have it from me, too, don't you?" said O'Hara.
Quarren nodded cordially: "I'll get it; no fear. I'm terribly sorry about that check. But it will be all right to-morrow, Karl."
Lacy thought to himself with a grin: "He'll kill somebody at Auction to square himself—that's what Ricky means to do. God be good to the wealthy this winter night!"
O'Hara, lank, carefully scrubbed, carefully turned out as one of his own hunters, stood up with a yawn and glanced at his watch.
"Didn't somebody say somebody was comin' in to tea?" he asked generally.
"My cousin, Mrs. Wycherly," said Westguard—"and a friend of hers—I've forgotten——"
"Mrs. Leeds," observed Lacy. "And she is reputed to be a radiant peach. Did any of you fellows ever meet her in the old days?"
Nobody there had ever seen her.