“I scarcely think it fair,” said she, at length, “to connect Mr. Dunn with a legislation which he is only called upon to execute.” “With all my heart. Acquit him as much as you will; but, for my part, I feel very little tenderness for the hand that accomplishes the last functions of the law against me. These fellows have displayed a zeal and an alacrity in their work that shows how they relish the sport. After all,” said he, after a pause, “this Dunn is neither better nor worse than the rest of them, and in one respect he has the advantage over them,--he has not forgotten himself quite so much as the others. To be sure, we knew him in his very humblest fortunes, Augusta; he was meek enough then.” She stooped to pick up her work, which had fallen, and her neck and face were crimson as she resumed it. “Wonderful little anticipation had he then of the man he was to become one of these days. Do you know, Augusta, that they say he is actually worth two millions?--two millions!” She never spoke; and after an interval Lord Glengariff burst out into a strange laugh. “You 'd scarcely guess what I was laughing at, Augusta. I was just remembering the wretched hole he used to sleep in. It was a downright shame to put him there over the stable, but the cottage was under repair at the time, and there was no help for it. 'I can accommodate myself anywhere, my Lord,' he said. Egad, he has contrived to fulfil the prediction in a very different sense. Just fancy--two millions sterling!” It was precisely what Lady Augusta was doing at the moment, though, perhaps, not quite in the spirit his Lordship suspected. “Suppose even one half of it be true, with a million of money at command, what can't a man have nowadays?” And so they both fell a-thinking of all that same great amount of riches could buy,--what of power, respect, rank, flattery, political influence, fine acquaintance, fine diamonds, and fine dinners. “If he play his cards well, he might be a peer,” thought my Lord. “If he be as ambitious as he ought to be, he might aspire to a peer's daughter,” was the lady's reflection. “He has failed in my negotiation, however,” said Lord Glengariff, peevishly; “at least, Hankes just told me that it can't be done. I detest that fellow Hankes. It shows great want of tact in Dunn having such a man in his employment,--a vulgar, self-sufficient, over-dressed fellow, who can't help being familiar out of his own self-satisfaction. Now, Dunn himself knows his place. Don't you think so?” She muttered something not very intelligible, but which sounded like concurrence. “Yes,” he resumed, “Dunn does not forget himself,--at least, with me.” And to judge from the carriage of his head as he spoke, and the air with which he earned the pinch of snuff to his nose, he had not yet despaired of seeing the world come back to the traditions which once had made it worth living in.