Accordingly, he replied,--“It cannot involve any alarming stretch of confidence on my part, merely to tell you whether your ‘guesses at truth’ have hit the mark, or flown wide of it. So you have only to propound your queries, and I will answer them as clearly and concisely as in me lies.” “_C’est bon!_” was the reply. “A--to begin with--I am correct, am I not, in supposing that last night my worthy friend Crane offered his hand and £20,000 per annum (in which latter item his heart is of course wrapped up and included) to your amiable and accomplished sister?” Hazlehurst nodded assent, and D’Almayne continued,--“The young lady, however, or I am much mistaken, greatly prefers your excellent and energetic friend, Mr. Coverdale (who, you must pardon me for saying, reminds me of a well-intentioned, enthusiastic bull in a chinashop), which preference the gentleman returns to such a degree, that I am inclined to believe he _has_ told, or in some other manner rendered the fair Alice aware of, his love. Her manner at breakfast this morning, was compounded of such an elaborate endeavour to conceal the conscious and confiding, behind the most transparent _eidolon_ of indifference, that no one at all acquainted with woman’s nature could doubt about the matter.” “You are indeed a close observer!” exclaimed Arthur, surprised out of his caution. “Coverdale’s attachment was a thing I never even suspected till--a--till this morning.” “Mr. Crane tells me, your father is intensely anxious to purchase one of his farms adjoining your estate, which he (Crane) is unwilling to part with,” resumed D’Almayne; “thence, I imagine, proceeds your respected progenitor’s anxiety to bring about the match. To finish the catalogue of my observations up to the present time, I conceive Mr. Crane to be now in the act of urging his suit to Mr. Hazlehurst, and complaining that ‘Miss Alice’ as he calls her (he always talks on such subjects like an underbred greengrocer, or second footman), rather kicked, than jumped, at him when he offered her--ahem--his income and his affections.” “Your surmises are so wonderfully correct,” rejoined Arthur (determining to make a merit of necessity, and appear open with one who seemed thus well acquainted with all the family secrets), “that in telling you that as soon as Mr. Crane leaves the study, I mean to appeal to my father in my friend’s behalf, I shall, probably, only forestall you in expressing another of your judicious anticipations.” “I rather imagined that would be the next move,” was the easy, self-satisfied reply.--“Mr. Coverdale, with all his surprising freshness and _naïveté_ of character, could scarcely propose to urge his suit in person, after having quarrelled with your father over his wine last night; for which reason, by the way, it requires no very great tact to divine that Mr. Crane’s proposal will find favour in Mr. Hazlehurst’s eyes, and Mr. Coverdale’s be rejected.” “And the remedy?” inquired Arthur, eagerly.