"Ay, if--if. But I am quite sure he has no such rights as he pretends to, and that his papers are all a deception.--Why do you put your eye upon me as fixed as if you were searching out some wonderful secret?" "I wish I knew what to think of your real _bona fide_ belief respecting these documents," said Jekyl, not a little puzzled by the steady and unembarrassed air of his friend. "Why, thou most suspicious of coxcombs," said Etherington, "what the devil would you have me say to you?--Can I, as the lawyers say, prove a negative? or, is it not very possible, that such things may exist, though I have never seen or heard of them? All I can say is, that of all men I am the most interested to deny the existence of such documents; and, therefore, certainly will not admit of it, unless I am compelled to do so by their being produced; nor then either, unless I am at the same time well assured of their authenticity." "I cannot blame you for your being hard of faith, my lord," said Jekyl; "but still I think if you can cut out with your earldom, and your noble hereditary estate, I would, in your case, pitch Nettlewood to the devil." "Yes, as you pitched your own patrimony, Jekyl; but you took care to have the spending of it first.--What would _you_ give for such an opportunity of piecing your fortunes by marriage?--Confess the truth." "I might be tempted, perhaps," said Jekyl, "in my present circumstances; but if they were what they have been, I should despise an estate that was to be held by petticoat tenure, especially when the lady of the manor was a sickly fantastic girl, that hated me, as this Miss Mowbray has the bad taste to hate you." "Umph--sickly?--no, no, she is not sickly--she is as healthy as any one in constitution--and, on my word, I think her paleness only renders her more interesting. The last time I saw her, I thought she might have rivalled one of Canova's finest statues." "Yes; but she is indifferent to you--you do not love her," said Jekyl. "She is any thing but indifferent to me," said the Earl; "she becomes daily more interesting--for her dislike piques me; and besides, she has the insolence openly to defy and contemn me before her brother, and in the eyes of all the world. I have a kind of loving hatred--a sort of hating love for her; in short, thinking upon her is like trying to read a riddle, and makes one make quite as many blunders, and talk just as much nonsense. If ever I have the opportunity, I will make her pay for all her airs." "What airs?" said Jekyl.