“Well?” said Gerald, conscious of a sense of relief in Askew’s presence.  “You sent for me.”

“I did.  Your sister told me something; all she knew, perhaps, but not enough.  Anyhow, you are in trouble about money and I promised to help.”

“For my sake?” Gerald asked.

Kit frowned.  “Not altogether, but we’ll let that go.  If I am to be of use, you had better state the trouble plainly.  I must know how things are.”

“I suppose if you find the money I need, it will give you a claim on us,” Gerald remarked meaningly.

“Yes,” said Kit, with a steady look.  “But that won’t make any difference.  I don’t mean to urge my claim.  I expect this clears the ground?”

“It does; it’s some relief.  As a matter of fact, nobody can help quite as much as you.”

“Ah,” said Kit, “I think I see!  You used my name.  What was the sum for which you made me responsible?”

Gerald told him and waited anxiously when Kit knitted his brows.  The sum was not so large as the latter had thought and Osborn’s inability to raise it indicated that he was seriously embarrassed.

“I understand your father applied to Thorn,” said Kit.  “Does he know you have come to me?”

“He does not; nobody knows but Grace.  I’d better state that I did come because I thought you’d take a generous line, and I’m doubtful about Thorn.”

Kit made a sign of understanding.  “Thorn hasn’t arrived yet?” he said.

“He sent a note he’d come across, but when I left he hadn’t arrived.  My notion is he’s waiting until the last moment, with the object of making us realize we must have his help.”

“It’s possible,” said Kit, who approved Gerald’s handling of the matter.  The lad was a wastrel, but he had run some risk in order to save his sister from being forced to pay for his fault.  “We won’t bother about Thorn’s object,” he resumed.  “Tell me about your difficulties.  I don’t want a half confidence.”

Gerald hesitated and then began his tale.  He had used the bank’s money to speculate with and had lost.  Plunging again, in the hope of getting straight, he had got alarmed when the margin shrank, and had gone to Hallam, the money-lender.  The latter had insisted on a guarantee for the bill and Gerald had used Kit’s name.  He replaced the bank’s money and had hoped the shares would go up before the bill fell due, but they had not.

“Well,” said Kit quietly, “I expected something like this, and when the fellow brings the bill to your father it must be met.”  He stopped and picking up a newspaper studied the steamship advertisements.  Then he turned to Gerald.

“There’s another thing.  You can’t get a post in England, and for your mother’s and sister’s sakes, had better leave the country.  A fast New York boat sails from Liverpool to-morrow.  You must get off by to-night’s train.”

Gerald looked at him with surprise.  “But I’m not going to New York.  I’ve no money and don’t know what to do when I get there.”