Mr. Gillat felt in his own lean pockets surreptitiously.  “We might play for paper,” he said.

And as she went up-stairs Julia listened to hear their chairs scroop on the kamptulikon floor as they drew them to the table; she was surprised not to hear the sound, but she imagined the game must have been put off a little so that her father could talk over his troubles.  Which, indeed, was the case, though the magnitude of those troubles she did not guess.

CHAPTER II

THE DEBT

Violet’s engagement was an accepted fact.  Mr. Frazer came to see the Captain, who received him in the dining-room—­the combined ingenuity of the family could not make the down-stairs room presentable.  The interview was short, but satisfactory; so also was the one with Mrs. Polkington which followed; with Violet it was longer, but, no doubt, equally satisfactory.  Lunch, too, was all that could be desired.  Mrs. Polkington’s manners were always gracious, and to-day she had a charming air of taking Richard into the family—­after having shut all the doors, actual and metaphorical, which led to anything real and personal.  The Captain was rather twittery at lunch, at times inclined to talk too much, at times heavily silent and always obviously submissive to his wife.  Yesterday’s excitement was not enough to account for this in Julia’s opinion.  “He has been doing something,” she decided, and wondered what.

Mrs. Polkington and her daughters all went out that afternoon; Julia, however, returned at about dusk.  As the others had no intention of coming back so soon, there was no drawing-room tea; a much simpler meal was spread in the dining-room.  Julia and her father had only just sat down to it when they heard Johnny Gillat’s knock at the front door, followed a minute afterwards by Mr. Gillat himself; but when he saw that the Captain was not alone, he stopped on the threshold; Julia’s presence, contrary to custom, seemed to discompose him.  He, then, was in her father’s secret, whatever it might be; she guessed as much when she saw his perturbed pink face.  However, she did not say anything, only invited Mr. Gillat to have some tea.

Johnny sat down, and put a small and rather badly tied parcel beside him; next minute he picked it up again, and began surreptitiously to put it into first one pocket and then another.  It was rather a tight fit, and in his efforts to do it unobtrusively, he made some disturbance, but no one remarked on it; Captain Polkington because he was too despondent, Julia because it did not seem worth while.  Conversation languished; Julia did what she could, but her father answered in monosyllables, and Mr. Gillat said, “Very true,” or “Ah, yes, yes,” eating slice after slice of thick bread and butter, and filling his mouth very full as if to cork it up and so prevent his having to answer awkward questions.

At last Captain Polkington rose; “Gillat,” he said, “if you have finished, we may as well go down-stairs.”