"He has no right to bet with his father's money."
"Perhaps it is his own. I will give you twenty pound of it, Dolly, to do what you like with."
But Dolly would have none of it. If it was to be peace money, it made no peace with her.
CHAPTER X.
BRIERLEY COTTAGE.
A few months later than this, it happened one day that Mr. Copley was surprised in his office by a visit from young St. Leger. Mr. Copley was sitting at a table in his own private room. It was not what you would call a very comfortable room; rather bare and desolate looking; a carpet and some chairs and desks and a table being the only furniture. The table was heaped up with papers, and desks and floor alike testified to an amount of heterogeneous business. Busy the Consul undoubtedly was, writing and studying; nevertheless, he welcomed his visitor. The young man came in like an inhabitant of another world, as he was; in spotlessly neat attire, leisurely manner, and with his blue eyes sleepily nonchalant at the sight of all the stir of all the world. But they smiled at Mr. Copley.
"You seem to have your bands full," he remarked.
"Rather. Don't I? Awfully! Secretary taken sick—confoundedly inconvenient." Mr. Copley went on writing as he spoke.
"There are plenty of secretaries to be had."