"Hush!" cried O'Shea, "there's some one at the door."

And a loud summons at the same time confirmed the words. With a ready instinct Joe speedily recovered himself, and hastened to open it.

"Is your master at home?" asked a voice.

"Oh, Heathcote, is it you?" exclaimed O'Shea; "Just step into the next room, and I 'll be with you in a second or two. Joe, show Captain Heathcote into the drawing-room."

"I wondher what's the matter with him?" said Joe, confidentially, as he came back. "I never see any one look so low."

"So much the better," said O'Shea, merrily; "it's a sign he's coming to pay money. When a man is about to put you off with a promise, he lounges in with an easy, devil-may-care look that seems to say, 'It's all one, old fellow, whether you have an I O or the ready tin.'"

"There's a deal of truth in that," said Joe, approvingly, and with a look that showed how pleasurable it was to him to hear such words of wisdom.

CHAPTER XX. A DREARY FORENOON.

O'Shea swaggered into the room where Heathcote was standing to await him, in the attitude of one who desired to make his visit as brief as might be.

"How good of you to drive over to this dreary spot," began the Member, jauntily, "where the blue devils seem to have their especial home. I 'm hipped and bored here as I never was before. Come, sit down; have you breakfasted?"

"Three hours ago."

"Take some luncheon, then; a glass of sherry, at least."

"Nothing--thanks--it's too early."

"Won't you have even a weed?" said he, opening a cigar-box.

"I 'm provided," said the other, showing the half of a still lighted cigar. "I came over this morning, hoping to catch you at home, and make some sort of settlement about our little transactions together."

"My dear fellow, you surely can't think it makes any matter between _us_. I hope you know that it is entirely a question for your own convenience. No man has more experience of what it is to be 'hit hard,'

as they say. When I first came out, I got it. By Jove! did n't I get it, and at both sides of the head too. It was Mopus's year, when the Yorkshire Lass ran a dead heat with Skyrocket for the Diddlesworth. I stood seventeen to one, in thousands! think of that,--seventeen thousand pounds to one against the filly. It was thought so good a thing that Naylor--old Jerry, as they used to call him--offered me a clean thousand to let him take half the wager. But these are old stories now, and they only bore you; in fact, it was just to show you that every man has his turn--"

"I own frankly," broke in Heathcote, "I am far too full of selfish cares to take a proper interest in your story. Just tell me if these figures are correct?" And he turned to look out for a particular page in a small book.

"Confound figures! I wish they never were invented. If one only thinks of all the hearty fellows they 've set by the ears, the close friendships they have severed, the strong attachments they have broken, I declare one would be justified in saying it was the devil himself invented arithmetic."

"I wish he 'd have made it easier when he was about it," said Heathcote.

"Excellent, by Jove!--how good I 'Made it easier'--capital!" cried O'Shea, laughing with a boisterous jollity that made the room ring. "I hope I 'll not forget that. I must book that _mot_ of yours."

Heathcote grew crimson with shame, and, in an angry impulse, pitched his cigar into the fire.

"That's right," broke in O'Shea; "these are far better smoking than your cheroots; these are Hudson's 'Grand Viziers,' made especially for Abba Pasha's own smoking."

Heathcote declined coldly, and continued his search through his note-book.

"It was odd enough," said O'Shea, "just as you came in I was balancing in my own mind whether I 'd go over to the Villa, or write to you."

"Write to me!" said the other, reddening.

"Don't be scared; it was not to dun you. No; I was meditating whether it was quite fair of me to take that trap and the nags. _You_ like that sort of thing; it suits you too. Now, I 'm sobering down into the period of Park phaetons and George the Fourths: a low step to get in, and a deep, well-cushioned seat, with plenty of leg room; that's more my style. As Holditch says, 'The O'Shea wants an armchair upon C springs and Collinge's patent' Free and easy that, from a rascally coachmaker, eh?"

"I don't want the horses. I have no use for them. I 'm not quite clear whether you valued the whole thing at two hundred and fifty or three hundred and fifty?"

"We said, two fifty," replied O'Shea, in his silkiest of tones.

"Be it so," muttered Heathcote; "I gave two hundred for the chestnut horse at Tattersall's."

"He was dear,--too dear," was the dry reply.

"Esterhazy called him the best horse he ever bred."

"He shall have him this morning for a hundred and twenty."

"Well, well," burst in Heathcote, "we are not here to dispute about that I handed you, as well as I remember, eighty and two hundred and thirty Naps."

"More than that, I think," said O'Shea, thoughtfully, and as if laboring to recollect clearly.

"I'm certain I'm correct," said Heathcote, haughtily. "I made no other payments than these two,--eighty and two hundred and thirty."

"What a memory I have, to be sure!" said O'Shea, laughingly. "I remember now, it was a rouleau of fifty that I paid away to Layton was running in my head."

Heathcote's lip curled superciliously, but it was only for a second, and his features were calm as before. "Two thirty and eighty make three hundred and ten, and three fifty--"

"Two fifty for the trap!" broke in O'Shea.

"Ah! to be sure, two fifty, make altogether five hundred and sixty Naps, leaving, let me see--ninety-four--sixty-one--one hundred and twelve--"

"A severe night that was. You never won a game!" chimed in O'Shea.

"--One hundred and twelve and seventy, making three hundred and thirty-seven in all. Am I right?"

"Correct as Cocker, only you have forgotten your walk against time, from the fish-pond to the ranger's lodge. What was it,--ten Naps, or twenty?"

"Neither. It was five, and I paid it!" was the curt answer.

"Ain't I the stupidest dog that ever sat for a borough?" said O'Shea, bursting out into one of his boisterous laughs. "Do you know, I'd have been quite willing to have bet you a cool hundred about that?"

"And you 'd have lost," said Heathcote, dryly.

"Not a doubt of it, and deserved it too," said he, merrily.

"I have brought you here one hundred and fifty," said Heathcote, laying down three rouleaux on the table, "and, for the remainder, my note at three months. I hope that may not prove inconvenient?"

"Inconvenient, my boy! never say the word. Not to mention that fortune may take a turn one of these days, and all this California find its way back to its own diggings."