I was amused at the prologue, and waited on the tale. It soon
came. Oliphant, it appeared, was the purse-bearer of the
household, and woeful straits that poor purse-bearer must have
been often put to. I questioned him as to his master's revenues,
but could get no clear answer. There were payments due next month
in Florence which would solve the difficulties for the winter,
but in the meantime expenditure had beaten income. Travelling
had cost much, and the Count must have his small comforts. The
result in plain words was that Oliphant had not the wherewithal
to frank the company to Florence; indeed, I doubted if he could
have paid the reckoning in Santa Chiara. A loan was therefore
sought from a friend's friend, meaning myself.

I was very really embarrassed. Not that I would not have given
willingly, for I had ample resources at the moment and was
mightily concerned about the sad household. But I knew that the
little Duchess would take Oliphant's ears from his head if she
guessed that he had dared to borrow from me, and that, if I lent,
her back would for ever be turned against me. And yet, what
would follow on my refusal? In a day of two there would be a
pitiful scene with mine host, and as like as not some of their
baggage detained as security for payment. I did not love the
task of conspiring behind the lady's back, but if it could be
contrived 'twas indubitably the kindest course. I glared sternly
at Oliphant, who met me with his pathetic, dog-like eyes.

"You know that your mistress would never consent to the request
you have made of me?"