“I know what it is to be hard up,” Mordaunt answered.  “And since we are to be brothers we may as well behave as such, eh—­Rupert?”

Rupert’s hand came out and gripped his impulsively.  For a second he seemed to be at a loss for words, then burst into headlong speech.

“Look here!  I think I ought to tell you, before you take us in hand to that extent, that we’re a family of rotters.  We’re not one of us sound.  Oh, I’m not talking about Chris. She’s a girl.  But the rest of us are below par, slackers.  Our father was the same.  There’s bad blood somewhere.  You are bound to find it out sooner or later, so you may as well know it now.”

Mordaunt’s grey eyes looked his full in the face.  “Is that intended as a warning not to expect too much?” he asked.

Rupert’s eyelids twitched a little under that direct look.  “Yes,” he said briefly.

“And if I don’t listen to warnings of that description?”

“You will probably get let down.”

Rupert spoke recklessly, yet almost as if he could not help it.  Undoubtedly there was something magnetic about Trevor Mordaunt at times, something that compelled.  He was conscious of relief when the steady eyes ceased to scrutinize him.

“Not by you, I think,” Mordaunt said, with his quiet smile.  “You may be a rotter, my boy, but you are not one of the crooked sort.”

“I’ve never robbed anyone, if that’s what you mean.”  Rupert’s laugh had in it a note of bitterness that was unconsciously pathetic.  “But I’m up to the eyes in debt and pretty desperate.  If I could have persuaded Murchison to raise money on the estate, I’d have done it long ago.  That’s why this offer of yours seemed too good to be true.”

Mordaunt nodded.  “I thought so.  It’s foul work floundering in that sort of quagmire.  I wonder now if you will allow me to have a look into your affairs, or if you prefer to go to the devil your own way.”

Rupert coloured and threw back his shoulders, but he did not take offence.  The leisurely proposal held none.  “I’m not over keen on going to the devil,” he said.  “But neither am I going to let you pay my debts, thanks all the same.”

Mordaunt glanced at him and smiled.  “I think you will cancel that ‘but,’” he said, “in view of our future relationship.”

Rupert hesitated, obviously wavering.  “It’s jolly decent of you,” he said boyishly.  “You make it confoundedly difficult to refuse.”

“You are not going to refuse,” said Mordaunt.  “No one knows better than I do that it’s ten times pleasanter to give than to receive.  But that—­between friends—­is not a point worth considering.”

“I should think you have a good many friends,” said Rupert.

“I believe I have.”

“Well,”—­the boy spoke with a tinge of feeling beneath his banter—­“you’ve added to the list to-night, and I wish you joy of your acquisition!  But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”