tone--"'pon my soul I should; but really don't know a damned woman I
could recommend--'pon my soul I don't."

"You must see a good many: I wish you'd look out for one that you
COULD recommend."

"Certainly I will, my dear Jack!" answers the other, in a relieved
voice. "Never thought about 'em in that way before. Daresay I shall
come across the very girl to suit you. I'll keep my eyes open and
let you know."

"I shall be obliged to you if you will," replies John Ingerfield,
quietly; "and it's your turn, I think, to oblige me, Will. I have
obliged you, if you recollect."

"Shall never forget it, my dear Jack," murmurs Will, a little
uneasily. "It was uncommonly good of you. You saved me from ruin,
Jack: shall think about it to my dying day--'pon my soul I shall."

"No need to let it worry you for so long a period as that," returns
John, with the faintest suspicion of a smile playing round his firm
mouth. "The bill falls due at the end of next month. You can
discharge the debt then, and the matter will be off your mind."

Will finds his chair growing uncomfortable under him, while the
Madeira somehow loses its flavour. He gives a short, nervous laugh.

"By Jove," he says: "so soon as that? The date had quite slipped my
memory."