“Well, family,--friends; in short, she may have brothers,--a father?” “She _has_ a father, by Jove!--she _has_ a father!” “May I be so bold as to ask--” “Oh, you know him well!--all the world knows him, for the matter of that. What do you say to Kit Davis,--Grog!” “Grog Davis, my Lord?--Grog Davis!” “Just so,” said Beecher, lighting a cigar with an affected composure he intended to pass off for great courage. “Grog--Grog--Grog!--wonderful fellow! astonishing fellow! up to everything! and very amusing! I must say, my Lord,--I must say, your Lordship's father-in-law is a very remarkable man.” “I rather suspect he is, Twining.” “Under the circumstances,--the actual circumstances, I should say, my Lord, keep your engagement,--keep your engagement.” “I understand you, Twining; you don't fancy Master Grog. Well, I know an opinion of that kind is abroad. Many people are afraid of him; _I_ never was,--eh?” The last little interrogative was evoked by a strange smile that flickered across Twining's face. “You suspect that I _am_ afraid of him, Twining; now, why should I?” “Can't possibly conceive, my Lord,--cannot imagine a reason.” “He is what is called a dangerous fellow.” “Very dangerous.” “Vindictive.” “To the last. Never abandons a pursuit, they tell me.” “But we live in an age of civilization, Twining. Men of his stamp can't take the law in their own hands.” “I 'm afraid that is exactly the very thing they do, my Lord; they contrive always to be in the wrong, and consequently have everything their own way;” and so Mr. Twining rubbed his hands, slapped his legs, and laughed away very pleasantly. “You are rather a Job's comforter, Twining,” said Beecher, tartly. “Not very like Job, your Lordship; very little resemblance, I must say, my Lord! Much more occasion for pride than patience,--peerage and a fine property!” “I 'm sure I never coveted it; I can frankly say I never desired prosperity at the price of--the price of--By the way, Twining, why not compromise this affair? I don't see why a handsome sum--I'm quite willing it should be handsome--would n't put all straight. A clever friend might be able to arrange the whole thing. Don't you agree with me?” “Perfectly, my Lord; quite convinced you have taken the correct view.” “Should you feel any objection to act for me in the matter,--I mean, to see Davis?” Twining winced like a man in pain. “Why, after all, it is a mere negotiation.” “Very true, my Lord.” “A mere experiment.” “Just so, my Lord; so is proving a new cannon; but I'd just as soon not sit on the breech for the first fire.” “It's wonderful how every one is afraid of this fellow, and _I_ wind him round my finger!” “Tact, my Lord,--tact and cleverness, that's it.”