“Her mother--well, you know whom I mean by that title--proposed, and I accepted the arrangement. She may, or may not, have dramatic ability; like everything else in life, there is a lottery about it. If she really do show cleverness, she will be a prize just now. If she has no great turn of speed, as the jocks say, she 'll always do for the Brazils and Havannah. They never send _us_ their best cigars, and, in return, _we_ only give _them_ our third-rate singers!” It was evident in this speech that Stocmar was trying, by a jocular tone, to lead the conversation into some channel less irritating and disputatious; but Paten's features relaxed nothing of their stern severity, and he looked dogged and resolute as before. “I think, Stocmar,” said he, at length, “that there is still a word wanting to that same bargain you speak of. If the girl's talents are to be made marketable, why should not I stand in for something?” “You,--you, Ludlow!” cried the other. “In the name of all that is absurd, what pretext can _you_ have for such a claim?” “Just this: that I am privy to the robbery, and might peach if not bought up.” “You know well this is mere blind menace, Ludlow,” said the other, good- humoredly; “and as to letting off squibs, my boy, don't forget that you live in a powder-magazine.” “And what if I don't care for a blow-up? What if I tell you that I 'd rather send all sky-high to-morrow than see that woman succeed in all her schemes, and live to defy me?” “As to that,” said Stocmar, gravely, “the man who neither cares for his own life or character can always do damage to those of another; there is no disputing about that.” “Well, I am exactly such a man, and _she_ shall know it.” Not a word was spoken for several minutes, and then Paten resumed, but in a calmer and more deliberate tone, “Trover has told me everything. I see her whole scheme. She meant to marry that old Baronet, and has been endeavoring, by speculating in the share-market, to get some thousands together; now, as the crash has smashed the money part of the scheme, the chances are it will have also upset the marriage. Is not that likely?” “That is more than I can guess,” said Stocmar, doubtingly. “_You_ can guess it, just as _I_ can,” said Paten, half angrily. “She's not the woman to link her fortune with a ruined man. Can't you guess _that?_” Stocmar nodded, and Paten went on: “Now, _I_ mean to stand to win on either event,--that's _my_ book.” “I don't understand you, Paul.” “Call me Ludlow, confound you,” said Paten, passionately, “or that infernal name will slip out some day unawares. What I would say is, that, if she wishes to be 'My Lady,' she must buy _me_ off first. If she 'll consent to become my wife,--that is the other alternative.” “She'll never do that,” said Stocmar, gravely. “How do you know,--did she tell you so?” “Certainly not.” “You only know it, then, from your intimate acquaintance with her sentiments,” said he, sneeringly.