What he did say was:

'Uncle, can you let me have twenty pounds?'

Those were his amazing words. They slipped out. He could not stop

them.

Sir Thomas was taken aback for an instant, but not seriously. He

started, as might a man who, stroking a cat, receives a sudden, but

trifling scratch.

'Twenty pounds, eh?' he said, reflectively.

Then, the milk of human kindness swept over displeasure like a tidal

wave. This was a night for rich gifts to the deserving.

'Why, certainly, my boy, certainly. Do you want it at once?'

His lordship replied that he did, please; and he had seldom said

anything more fervently.

'Well, well. We'll see what we can do. Come with me.'

He led the way to his dressing-room. Like nearly all the rooms at

the castle, it was large. One wall was completely hidden by the

curtain behind which Spike had taken refuge that afternoon.

Sir Thomas went to the dressing-table, and unlocked a small drawer.

'Twenty, you said? Five, ten, fifteen--here you are, my boy.'

Lord Dreever muttered his thanks. Sir Thomas accepted the guttural

acknowledgment with a friendly pat on the shoulder.

'I like a little touch like that,' he said.

His lordship looked startled.

'I wouldn't have touched you,' he began, 'if it hadn't been--'

'A little touch like that letter-writing,' Sir Thomas went on. 'It

shows a warm heart. She is a warm-hearted girl, Spennie. A charming,

warm-hearted girl! You're uncommonly lucky, my boy.'

His lordship, crackling the four bank-notes, silently agreed with

him.

'But, come, I must be dressing. Dear me, it is very late. We shall

have to hurry. By the way, my boy, I shall take the opportunity of

making a public announcement of the engagement tonight. It will be a

capital occasion for it. I think, perhaps, at the conclusion of the

theatricals, a little speech--something quite impromptu and

informal, just asking them to wish you happiness, and so on. I like

the idea. There is an old-world air about it that appeals to me.

Yes.'

He turned to the dressing-table, and removed his collar.

'Well, run along, my boy,' he said. 'You must not be late.' His

lordship tottered from the room.

He did quite an unprecedented amount of thinking as he hurried into

his evening clothes; but the thought occurring most frequently was

that, whatever happened, all was well in one way, at any rate. He

had the twenty pounds. There would be something colossal in the

shape of disturbances when his uncle learned the truth. It would be

the biggest thing since the San Francisco earthquake. But what of

it? He had the money.

He slipped it into his waistcoat-pocket. He would take it down with

him, and pay Hargate directly after dinner.

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