Present circumstances and present feelings compelled Lord Spoonbill to enter into serious deliberation with himself as to what step he should pursue. He could not for a moment admit the possibility of making an honorable offer of his hand to the young lady; such a proposal would have been the death of the Earl of Smatterton. That offer, which his lordship gravely called the other proposal, required a little more circumlocution and management; for his lordship was not quite so simple as not to be aware that, if making the first proposal was condescension on his part, accepting the latter would be condescension on the part of the lady. There was required for this purpose a tolerably strong attachment to his lordship, which might not yet exist in the lady's mind. And though Lord Spoonbill was not by any means a man of great understanding or extraordinary penetration, yet in those matters in which he was most conversant he was not altogether unskilful. In pursuits of a similar nature to the present, his lordship was by no means inexpert; but, in the present instance, he knew that the person in question was gifted with mental powers superior to those which had belonged to his previous victims, and his own regard for her was somewhat more tender and respectful. These considerations on the one hand told his lordship that success would be endangered by precipitancy, while the fact that Mr Primrose, in the course of a day or two, would make his appearance, rendered it necessary that some immediate steps should be taken. It is a great pity that hereditary legislators, who are born to govern a nation, should in any case be incapable of legislating for themselves. Such a case now occurred. Lord Spoonbill thought of calling to his aid the counsel of a friend. For this purpose he forthwith ordered his horse for a morning ride; and, after an unmercifully rapid gallop of ten miles, he dismounted at the door of one of the prettiest little cottages within twenty miles of London.