He came yesterday, but
you were out then."
"What does he want?" asked Arthur.
"Wanted me to pay him a trifle I owe; but it's not convenient to do it
till next week. What an Eden this lower world might be, if debt had
never been invented!"
"You need not get into debt," said Arthur. "It is not compulsory."
"One _might_ build a mud hut outside the town walls, and shut one's
self up in it, and eat herbs for dinner, and sleep upon rushes, and
turn hermit for good!" retorted Roland. "_You_ need not talk about
debt, Channing."
"I don't owe much," said Arthur, noting the significance of Yorke's
concluding sentence.
"If you don't, some one else does."
"Who?"
"Ask Hamish."
Arthur went on writing with a sinking heart. There was an undercurrent
of fear running within him--had been for some time--that Hamish did owe
money on his own private score. But this allusion to it was not
pleasant.
"How much do you owe?" went on Roland.
"Oh, a twenty-pound note would pay my debts, and leave me something out
of it," said Arthur, in a joking tone. The fact was, that he did not
owe a shilling to any one. "Jenkins, do you know what I am to set about
next?" he continued; "I have filled in this lease."
Jenkins was beginning to look amidst some papers at his elbow, in
answer to the appeal; but at that moment Mr. Galloway entered, and
despatched Arthur to get a cheque cashed at the bank.
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