“Impertinent, you would say,” finished Mr. Stewart, as his nephew paused; “that is precisely what I remarked to you a few moments since—knight-errantry in the nineteenth century is always impertinent; but still, if one sees a man walking straight on to the brink of a precipice, involuntarily one shouts out a warning to him. That is what I did—and that is what I got for my pains. Now, Mr. Dudley may go to the devil, for any trouble I shall take to prevent his travelling that easy road.” “But his wife, and the children?” “One of the children will happily never need a marriage portion,” returned Mr. Stewart, “and the other is a boy. As for Mrs. Dudley, we have talked that over before; and, speaking of her, Douglas, may I inquire the reason of the special interest you seem to feel about her? A charming lady, doubtless, but still, a recent acquaintance. You are not in love with her, I hope?” “No,” Douglas Croft answered, “I do not love her.” “What is the link, then? for a link of some kind there must be.” “Perhaps that my wife dislikes her,” suggested Mr. Croft; then he added, in a different tone: “I have been a stupid ass and an awful sinner—that is the reason I like Mrs. Dudley.” “Complimentary to Mrs. Dudley.” “True, nevertheless,” answered Mr. Croft; and at this moment they arrived at Mr. Black’s offices in Dowgate Hill, where they found that gentleman thoroughly enjoying himself. “So you are really going to leave his Lordship in my hands for execution?” he said, when Mr. Stewart had explained the purpose of their visit. “I am delighted to hear it, for I was just sketching out a letter in answer to his. May I read it to you?” “No,” answered Mr. Stewart, “I do not wish to be mixed up with it in any way. The matter rests between you and Lord Kemms, and we must decline all interference. Fight it out yourselves. Whether the letter ought to be answered at all, until after the next board-day, is a question for you to decide.” “I will take that responsibility on my own shoulders,” remarked Mr. Black. “Of course, all this is Mr. Raidsford’s doing, not Lord Kemms’. I only wish it was Raidsford I had to answer, I would give him a dose that ought to cure him of meddling for a while again.” “Could you not publish the formula?” asked Mr. Croft; “it might be useful to the general public.” “There are some medicines the success of which depends as much on the person who administers them as on the drugs they actually contain,” laughed Mr. Black; “and I don’t think my physic would do Mr. Raidsford much good, unless I gave it to him with my own hands. Meddling humbug! what the deuce does he know about companies?” “I suppose it is true concerning things as well as people—that we generally dislike that which we do not know,” said Mr. Stewart. “And a vast number of both things and people that we do,” added Mr. Black. Shortly after which speech his visitors took their departure, leaving him to finish his letter at his leisure.