“It wouldn't be of the slightest service, I assure you. In the first place, he is so plausible, he'd persuade any one that there was nothing to complain of, that he lived up to his fortune, that his means were actually crippled; and secondly, he'd give such pledges for the future, such promises, that it would be downright rudeness to throw a doubt on their sincerity.” “Why did you marry him, my dear?” said Lady Lackington, with a little sigh. “I married him to vex Ridout; we had a quarrel at that _fête_ at Chiswick, you remember, Tollertin's _fête_. Ridout was poor, and felt his poverty. I don't believe I treated his scruples quite fairly. I know I owned to him that I had no contempt for riches--that I thought Belgrave-square, and the Opera, and Diamonds, and a smart Equipage, all very commendable things: and Jack said, 'Then, there's your man. Twining has twenty thousand a year.' 'But, he has not asked me,' said I, laughing. Ridout turned away without a word. Half an hour later, Mr. Adderley Twining formally proposed for my hand, and was accepted.” “And Jack Ridout is now the Marquis of Allerton,” said Lady Lackington. “I know it!” said the other, bitterly. “With nigh forty thousand a year.” “I know it!” cried she, again. “And the handsomest house and the finest park in England.” The other burst into tears, and hid her face between her hands. “There's a fate in these things, my dear,” said Lady Lackington, with a slight paleness creeping over her cheek. “That's all we can say about them.” “What have you done with that sweet place in Hampshire?” “Dingley? It is let to Lord Mauley.” “And you had a house in St. James's-square.” “It is Burridge's Hotel, now.” Lady Lackington fanned her swarthy face for some seconds, and then said, “And how did you come here?” “We saw--that is, Twining saw--an advertisement of this new establishment in the _Galignani_. We had just arrived at Liége, when he discovered a vetturino returning to Milan with an empty carriage; he accordingly bargained with him to take us on here--I forget for what sum--so that we left our own carriage, and half my luggage, at the Pavilion Hotel, and set off on our three weeks' journey. We have been three weeks all but two days on the road! My maid of course refused to travel in this fashion, and went back to Paris. Courcel, his own man, rebelled too, which Twining, I must say, seemed overjoyed at, and gave him such a character for honesty in consequence, as he never could have hoped for; and so we came on, with George the footman, and a Belgian creature I picked up at the hotel, who, except to tear out my hair when she brushes it, and bruise me whenever she hooks a dress, has really no other gift under heaven.” “And you actually came all this way by vetturino?” Lady Grace nodded a sad assent, and sighed deeply. “What does he mean by it, my dear? The man must have some deep, insidious design in all this;--don't you think so?”