"Well," said Jack, grimly. "Well," said Stephen, softly, "I had hoped, I still hope, that you will allow me the happiness of setting right, to some extent, the wrong--yes, I will say wrong--done you by my uncle's will." "That's impossible," said Jack, gravely. "But, my dear Jack, why not? It is my right. Have you any idea of the fortune----" "Not the slightest," said Jack, breaking in abruptly, "and it's no business of mine; large or small, I hope you'll enjoy it. It was the squire's to do as he liked with, and I suppose he did as he liked; and there's an end of it." Stephen winced and bit his lip. "And now," said Jack, quietly, but with his heart beating wildly, "I want a word with you, Stephen." "Say on, my dear Jack. If there is anything I can do for you----" "Yes, there is," said Jack. "I want to know--I want you to tell me--something respecting Miss Rolfe." "Miss Rolfe!" said Stephen, softly. "Yes," continued Jack. "You'll want to know, before I go any further, on what grounds I ask for information. I'll tell you. I have asked Miss Rolfe to be my wife." Stephen feigned a start of astonishment. "My dear Jack, isn't that rather sudden--rather premature?" "It may be sudden, I don't know whether it is premature; that's for Miss Rolfe to decide. And she has decided." Stephen moistened his lips; they burned like coals. "She has accepted you?" "She has," said Jack, who felt reluctant to utter one word more than was necessary. Stephen pulled up and held out his hand. "My dear Jack, I congratulate you. I congratulate you," he exclaimed, fervently. "You are indeed a happy man." Jack, confounded, allowed his hand to be wrung by the soft, white palm that burned hot and dry. "You are a lucky fellow, my dear Jack. Miss Rolfe is one in a thousand. I question if there is a more beautiful girl in London--and her disposition. You are indeed a lucky fellow." "Thanks, thanks!" said Jack, still overwhelmed by this flood of good will. "And now, perhaps you will tell me what I had better do in the affair! You see I find her visiting--settled, rather, at your mother's house, and neither she nor your mother seem to know why or wherefore----" Stephen interrupted him with a pressure of the arm. "I understand, my dear Jack; your anxiety for information is only natural. I am very glad I came up this evening--very glad! And now, as I feel rather tired, would you mind coming up to my rooms? and we'll have a hansom, after all." Jack hailed a cab, and they were rattled to the Albany. Of course they could not talk, and Stephen had therefore time to perfect his scheme; for he had already begun to plot and plan. The door of the chambers was opened by Slummers, his tall, square figure dressed in black, his discreet, shifty eyes absolutely veiled under his lids. "Let us have some Apollinaris and the liquor-case, Slummers," said Stephen, "and that box of cigars which Mr. Newcombe liked. Sit down, my dear Jack."