The Orange-Yellow Diamond | Page 7

Don't you ever go with empty

pockets in London while you've got a bit of property to pledge! You're
not a Londoner, of course?"
"I'm a Scotsman!" said Lauriston.
"To be sure--I knew it by your tongue," asserted Zillah. "And trying to
make a living by writing! Well, you'll want courage--and money. Have
you had any luck?"
"I've sold two stories," answered Lauriston, who by that time was
feeling as if the girl was an old friend. "They come to twenty pounds
for the two, at the rate that magazine pays, and I've asked for a
cheque--it's that I'm waiting for. It ought to come--any time."
"Oh, but I know that game!" said Zillah. "I've two friends--girls--who
write. I know how they have to wait--till publication, or till next pay-
day. What a pity that some of you writers don't follow some other
profession that would bring in a good income--then you could do your
writing to please yourselves, and not be dependent on it. Haven't you
thought of that?"
"Often!" answered Lauriston. "And it wouldn't do--for me, anyway. I've
made my choice. I'll stick to my pen--and swim or sink with it. And I'm
not going to sink!"
"That's the way to talk--to be sure!" said the girl. "But--keep yourself in
money, if you can. Don't go without money for three days when you've
anything you can raise money on. You see how practical I am! But
you've got to be in this world. Will you tell me something?"
"It strikes me," answered Lauriston, looking at her narrowly and
bringing the colour to her cheeks, "that I'm just about getting to
this--that I'd tell you anything! And so--what is it?"
"How much money have you left?" she asked softly.
"Precisely a shilling--and a copper or two," he answered.

"And--if that cheque doesn't arrive?" she suggested.
"Maybe I'll be walking round to Praed Street again," he said, laughing.
"I've a bit of what you call property, yet."
The girl nodded, and turned towards a side-walk that led across the
Gardens.
"All right," she said. "Don't think me inquisitive--I don't like to think
of--of people like you being hard up: I'm not wrapped up in business as
much as all that. Let's talk of something else--tell me what you write
about."
Lauriston spent the rest of that afternoon with Zillah, strolling about
Kensington Gardens. He had lived a very lonely life since coming to
London, and it was a new and pleasant experience to him to have an
intelligent companion to talk to. There was a decided sense of
exhilaration within him when he finally left her; as for Zillah, she went
homewards in a very thoughtful mood, already conscious that she was
more than half in love with this good-looking lad who had come so
strangely into her life. And at the corner of Praed Street she ran up
against Mr. Melky Rubinstein, and button-holed him, and for ten
minutes talked seriously to him. Melky, who had good reasons of his
own for keeping in his cousin's favour, listened like a lamb to all she
had to say, and went off promising implicit obedience to her
commandments.
"Zillah ain't half gone on that chap!" mused Melky, as he pursued his
way. "Now, ain't it extraordinary that a girl who'll come into a perfect
fortune should go and fall head over ears in love with a red-headed
young feller what ain't got a penny to bless hisself with! Not but what
he ain't got good looks--and brains. And brains is brains, when all's
said!"
That night, as Lauriston sat writing in his shabby little room, a knock
came at his door--the door opened, and Melky slid in, laying his finger
to the side of his large nose in token of confidence.

"Hope I ain't interrupting," said Melky. "I say, mister, I been thinking
about that catalogue business. Now I come to sort of reflect on it, I
think my friend'll go to ten pound. So we'll say ten pound--what? And
I'll take you to see him next Friday. And I say, mister--if a pound or
two on account 'ud be of any service--say the word, d'ye see?"
With this friendly assurance, Melky plunged his hand into a hip-pocket,
and drew out some gold, which he held towards Lauriston on his open
palm.
"Two or three pound on account, now, mister?" he said, ingratiatingly.
"You're welcome as the flowers in May!"
But Lauriston shook his head; he had already decided on a plan of his
own, if the expected remittance did not arrive next morning.
"No, thank you," he answered. "It's uncommonly good of you--but I
can manage very well indeed--I can, really! Next Friday, then--I'll go
with you. I'm very much obliged to you."
Melky slipped his money into his pocket--conscious of having done