"I'll pay it back," he cried, half sobbingly. "I'll be able to some day. God bless you, Jimmie—you don't know what you've saved me from. Another chance! I will make the most of it! I'll cut the old life and run straight—I mean it this time. I'm done with cards and evil companions, and all the rest of it!"
"Glad to hear it," said Jimmie. "I want your word of honor that you won't exceed your income hereafter, and that you will leave London for six months and go home."
"I will; I swear it!"
"And you will have nothing more to do with Flora and her kind?"
"Never again!"
"I believe you," said Jimmie, patting the young man on the shoulder. "Cheer up now and we'll breakfast together presently, and meanwhile I'll send a man round to your rooms for some morning togs. Then I'll leave you here while I go down to the city to see my bankers. I'll be back before noon, and bring a solicitor with me; I want the thing done ship-shape."
With that, Jimmie retired to the bedroom, where he was soon heard splashing in his tub. An hour later, when breakfast was over, he hurried away. He returned at half-past twelve, accompanied by an elderly gentleman of legal aspect, Mr. Grimsby by name. Bertie was ready, dressed in a suit of brown tweeds, and the three went on foot to Duke street, St. James'. They passed through the narrow court, and, without knocking, entered the office of Benjamin and Company. No one was there, but two persons were talking in a rear apartment, the door of which stood open an inch or so. And one of the voices sounded strangely familiar to Jimmie.
"Listen!" he whispered to Bertie. "Do you hear that?"