George could not resist such an appeal. He caught the hand of his brother and made him acquainted with his losses and his wants.
Frances mused some little time over his narration, ere he broke silence.
"It was all you had?"
"The last shilling," cried George, beating his head with his hand.
"How much will you require to make out the quarter?"
"Oh, I must have at least fifty guineas, or how can I live at all?"
The ideas of life in George were connected a good deal with the manner it was to be enjoyed. His brother appeared struggling with himself, and then turning to the other, continued,
"But surely, under present circumstances, you could make less do."
"Less, never—hardly that"—interrupted George, vehemently. "If Lady Margaret did not inclose me a note now and then, how could we get along at all? don't you find it so yourself, brother?"
"I don't know," said Francis, turning pale.
"Don't know!" cried George, catching a view of his altered countenance, "you get the money, though?"
"I do not remember it," said the other, sighing heavily.
"Francis," cried George, comprehending the truth, "you shall share every shilling I receive in future—you shall—indeed you shall."
"Well, then," rejoined Francis with a smile, "it is a bargain, and you will receive from me a supply in your present necessities."
Without waiting for an answer, Francis withdrew into an inner apartment, and brought out the required sum for his brother's subsistence for two months. George remonstrated, but Francis was positive; he had been saving, and his stock was ample for his simple habits without it.
"Besides, you forget we are partners, and in the end shall be a gainer."
