"Yes, he is--but that will make no change in him in certain respects. Douglas Dale is a fool, and will always remain so. Madame Durski has completely captivated him, and I am perfectly certain he would marry her to-morrow, if she could be brought to consent." "A striking proof that Mr. Douglas Dale deserves the character you have given him, you would say, Mr. Carrington?" "Madam, I am at the mercy of your perspicuity," said Victor, with a mock bow; "however, a truce to badinage--Douglas Dale is a rich man, and very much in love with Madame Durski; but he is the last man in the world to interfere with his cousin, by trying to win her affections, if he believes her attached to Sir Reginald. He is a fool in some things, as I have said before, and he is much more likely, if he thinks it a case of mutual desperation, to contribute a thousand a year or so to set the couple up in a modest competence, like a princely proprietor in a play, than to advance his own claims. Now, this modest competence business would not suit Sir Reginald, or Madame Durski, or me, but the other arrangement would be a capital thing for us all." "H--m, you see she really loves your friend, Sir Reginald," said Miss Brewer. "Tush," ejaculated Victor Carrington, contemptuously; "of course I know she does, but what does it matter? She would be the most wretched of women if Reginald married her, and _he won't_,--after all, that's the great point, he won't. Now Dale will, and will give her unlimited control of his money--a very nice position, _not_ so elevated as to ensure an undesirable raking-up of her antecedents, and the means of proving her gratitude to you, by providing for you comfortably for life." "That is all possible," replied Miss Brewer, as calmly as before; "but what am I to do towards bringing about so desirable a state of affairs."