"To think of it!" he said. "There never, never was such luck! D'Ossay, my boy, you've got the trick of it somehow. What will Griffiths say now? To think that I've been hunting for this woman all this time, and that she's now placed in my hands--and by this very swell too! Two birds with one stone now. Oh, there's a much bigger game than the Bart.'s cheque for fifty! But it'll take a deal of thinking over and planning; and if there's any one to do that, it's you, D'Ossay, my boy, and no one else!" CHAPTER XVIII. IN THE DRAWING-ROOM. What was Laurence Alsager doing at Redmoor? He was beginning to ask himself that question very frequently. And that question led to another--why had he come down there at all? He had "done" country-houses and their amusements and had tired of them years before; he had not the slightest liking for any of the guests; he had a vague dislike of the host. Why, then, had he come? He was a man who rarely tried to deceive himself; and when he put this question point-blank to himself the answer was, Why? Why, because you take a certain interest in Lady Mitford--no, I allow that perfectly; nothing dishonourable, nothing which at present could even be described as a love-passion; but a certain interest. You think from all you have seen that she is not merely very charming in her innocence and simplicity, but really good; and you expect from certain signs which you detect, and with the nature of which you are familiar, that she will have to pass through a very perilous ordeal. It is obvious to you that in society, as it is now constituted, a woman of Lady Mitford's personal attractions and position must incur a very great deal of temptation. This, of course, would be to a great extent avoided if she were secure in the affections and certain of the attentions of her husband; but in the present instance you are constrained to admit, contrary to the opinion which you once publicly expressed, that Sir Charles Mitford is a weak, silly, vain person, who has fallen a victim to the wiles of a thoroughly heartless coquette, and who appears to be going from bad to worse as rapidly as possible. So that your certain interest has brought you down here to watch over the lady. Quixotic and ultra-romantic, is it not? You do not mean it to be so, I know--I give you full credit for that; but still that is the designation it would probably receive from any of your friends. The truth is, that this--I was almost going to call it parental, but we will say fraternal--this fraternal regard for a very handsome woman is a novelty to you; and hence your enjoyment of it. I said expressly a very handsome woman, because I don't believe that the fraternal sentiment could possibly blossom for an ugly one. Beware of it, my friend, if you please! it's the trickiest, most treacherous elf, this fraternal friendship, that exists; it goes on for a certain period perfectly steadily and properly, and then one morning you find it has deserted you, and left