‘Do You Ever Think What Money Is?’

Gerald told his story, standing bolt upright, and looking his father full in the face as he told it.  ’You lost three thousand four hundred pounds at one sitting to Lord Percival—­at cards!’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘In Lord Nidderdale’s house.’

‘Yes, sir.  Nidderdale wasn’t playing.  It wasn’t his fault.’

‘Who were playing?’

’Percival, and Dolly Longstaff, and Jack Hinde,—­and I. Popplecourt was playing at first.’

‘Lord Popplecourt!’

‘Yes, sir.  But he went away when he began to lose.’

‘Three thousand four hundred pounds!  How old are you?’

‘I am just twenty-one.’

’You are beginning the world well, Gerald!  What is the engagement which Silverbridge has made with Lord Percival?’

‘To pay him the money at the end of next month.’

‘What had Silverbridge to do with it?’

’Nothing, sir.  I wrote to Silverbridge because I didn’t know what to do.  I knew he would stand me.’

‘Who is to stand either of you if you go on thus I do not know.’  To this Gerald of course made no reply, but an idea came across his mind that he knew who would stand both himself and his brother.  ‘How did Silverbridge mean to get the money?’

’He said he would ask you.  But I thought that I ought to tell you.’

‘Is that all?’

‘All what, sir?’

‘Are there other debts?’ To this Gerald made no reply.  ’Other gambling debts?’

’No, sir;—­not a shilling of that kind.  I have never played before.’

’Does it ever occur to you that going on at that rate you may very soon lose all the fortune that will ever come to you?  You were not yet of age and you lost three thousand four hundred pounds at cards to a man whom you probably knew to be a professed gambler!’ Then the Duke seemed to wait for a reply, but poor Gerald had not a word to say.  ’Can you explain to me what benefit you proposed to yourself when you played for such stakes as that?’

‘I hoped to win back what I had lost.’

‘Facilis descensus Averni!’ said the Duke, shaking his head.  ‘Noctes atque dies patet atri jauna Ditis.’  No doubt, he thought, that as his son was at Oxford, admonitions in Latin would serve him better than in his native tongue.  But Gerald, when he heard the grand hexameter rolled out in his father’s grandest tone, entertained a comfortable feeling that the worst of the interview was over.  ’Win back what you had lost!  Do you think that that is the common fortune of young gamblers when they fall among those who are more experienced than themselves?’

‘One goes on, sir, without reflecting.’

’Go on without reflecting!  Yes, and where to? where to?  Oh, Gerald, where to?  Whither will such progress without reflection take you?’ ‘He means—­to the devil,’ said the lad inwardly to himself, without moving his lips.  ’There is but one goal for such going on as that.  I can pay three thousand four hundred pounds to you certainly.  I think it hard that I should have to do so; but I can do it,—­and I will do it.’