“Hurry no man’s cattle, the day is young,” said Brown, removing his cheroot after two or three puffs, and contemplating it with apparent interest. “About six months later,” he proceeded oracularly, “Sir Greville died suddenly of heart disease, and it was found by his will that he had passed on the guardianship of the fair Alice to his son--to his _son_, a young fellow of four-and-twenty, a captain in the Fifth Hussars, and now with his regiment in India. What do you think of that?” “Think!” returned his friend, with emphasis; “I think it was meant as an uncommonly strong hint for the son to marry her.” “And so he will, be sure. A pretty girl, with four thousand pounds a-year and no relations, is not to be had every day. I only wish I had such a chance. But I am afraid that a sub in a marching regiment, with a pittance of a hundred pounds a year and his pay, would be rather out of the running.” “You may say so,” replied Cox candidly, plunging his hands still deeper into his pockets. “That old dowager would make short work of ‘the likes of you,’ as they say in the Green Isle.” “No doubt she would. She is a Miss Fane, an aunt of Fairfax’s, and has been all autumn at Nice; and is now here on a visit to the Lee-Dormers. Of course she will keep the fair Alice for her nephew.” “How do you know all this? How do you know her name is Alice?” inquired Captain Cox. “Oh, I know a good many things,” returned his friend, with careless complacency, resuming his cheroot and a critical inspection of all passers-by. His companion gazed at him for some moments with a kind of sleepy admiration, and then suddenly burst out: “Is this Fairfax a dark, slim, good-looking fellow? for I recollect a Fairfax, an A1 rider, winning the Grand Military at Punchestown some three years ago; he was in the cavalry, I know.” “Yes, that’s he--Reginald Fairfax. Since then he has been improving the shining hour in the gorgeous East, tiger-shooting, pig-sticking, polo-playing, and so on. His regiment is in this season’s reliefs, and, very likely, on its way home now.” “But the Fairfax I knew had lots of coin, never went near a lady, and would be the last man in the world to settle down and get married. He cared for nothing but sport of all kinds--hunting, racing, shooting, and so on; and if he is the identical guardian, Miss Saville is likely to remain Miss Saville as far as he is concerned. Money would be no temptation to him,” he concluded triumphantly. “Well,” rejoined Mr. Brown, “if he won’t marry her, someone else will; it will be all the same to you and me. Here, my cheroot is out; come along and take a turn in the Strada, and give the natives a treat.” _Exeunt_, arm-in-arm. CHAPTER II. ALICE SAVILLE.