“You know him, that’s plain enough,” said Dolly, laughing. “Who could have been about town the last ten or fifteen years and not known him? I rather like him, too.” “So do I,” cried Ladarelle, eagerly, and as though it relieved his heart of a weight to make the confession. “Say what they will of Grog Davis, he’s a fellow to do a right good-natured thing; and as for advice, there’s not a man in the clubs I’d as soon go to as to him.” “He has a deal of worldly wit, that’s certain.” “Ay, and he has more. He knows the exact way to treat every one. I’ve seen him go up and take the Duke of Dullworth by the arm just as familiarly as you’d take me.” “Yes, when the Duke wanted him; he might do that.” Dolly paused for some minutes, and seemed to reflect. He was, indeed, reflecting and considering with himself whether he would make a clean breast of it, and tell Grenfell all--everything that he had on his mind, and everything that he had done in consequence. At length, he appeared to have formed his decision; and, pushing his glass from before him, he leaned his arm on the table, and addressed Grenfell in a voice of most confidential meaning. “I wrote to Grog since _I_ came here,” said he, significantly. “I told him all about old Wardle, and as much as I could make out about his ward. It wasn’t much; but I added whatever I suspected, and I asked what he thought of it. He answered me by the same post.” “And what did he say?” asked Grenfell, for the other had come to a dead stop. “I only got the letter as I stepped into the carriage, and glanced my eye over it. Shall I read it for you? It’s very short.” “Read it, then, by all means.” “Here it is,” said he, producing a very square-shaped sheet of paper, with a large seal of coarse wax attached, evidence that it had not been encased in an envelope: “‘Dear Dol! That’s his way, he’d be intimate with his Royal Highness. ‘Dear Dol, your note was writ like one of the queries to _Bell’s Life_, and in the same spirit I answer it. The old cove means to marry her----’ Eh, what?” “I did not speak--go on.” “‘The old cove means to marry her, and cut you out of the estate, just as Tom Barkely wag done by Rixley Drummond--only that Tom was offered the girl first, and wouldn’t have her.’” “He’s all right there. Tom Barkely’s obstinacy cost him about sixteen thousand a year, and sent him out to India as a major in a marching regiment,” said Grenfell. “Go on.” “‘This is my opinion,’ he puts two n’s to opinion, and it makes it read all the more stubborn, ‘and as for the remedy, Master Dolly, all I can say is, there ain’t two ways about it--there ain’t two ways about it,” repeated Ladarelle, slowly, and as though weighing each word as he uttered it. “Now, will you tell me, what does he mean by that?” “Read it over again.” “‘This is my opinion; and as for the remedy, Master Dolly, there ain’t too ways about it.--Yours, C. D.’”