“I declare, my Lord,” said she, hesitatingly, “I don't know what to say. Moralists and worldly people have two different measures for these things. I have no pretensions to claim a place with the former, and I rather shrink from accepting all the ideas of the latter. At all events, I would suppose that after a certain lapse of time, when years have gone over--profitably, I would hope--in fact, I mean--in short, I do not know what I mean.” “You mean, perhaps, that it is not at my time of life men take such a step with prudence. Is that it?” asked he, trying in vain to keep down the irritation that moved him. “Well, my Lord, I believe about the prudence there can scarcely be two opinions, whether a man be young or old. These things are wrong in themselves, and nothing can make them right.” “I protest I am unable to follow you,” said he, tartly. “All the better, my Lord, if I be only leading you where you have no inclination to wander. I see Nelly wants me at the piano.” “And you prefer accompanying _her_ to _me_” said he, reproachfully. “At least, my Lord, we shall be in harmony, which is scarcely our case here.” He sighed, almost theatrically, as he relinquished her arm, and retiring to a remote part of the room, affected to read a newspaper. Mr. Cutbill, however, soon drew a chair near, and engaged him in conversation. “So Bramleigh has done nothing,” whispered Cutbill, as he bent forward. “He did not, so far as I gather, even speak of the mine in the City.” “He said it was of no use; the time was unfavorable.” “Did you ever know it otherwise? Is n't it with that same cant of an unfavorable time these men always add so much to the premium on every undertaking?” “Sir, I am unable to answer your question. It is my first--I would I may be able to say, and my last--occasion to deal with this class of people.” “They 're not a bad set, after all; only you must take them in the way they're used to--the way they understand.” “It is a language I have yet to learn, Mr. Cutbill.” “The sooner your Lordship sets to work at it the better then.” Lord Culduff wheeled round in his chair, and stared with amazement at the man before him. He saw, however, the unmistakable signs of his having drunk freely, and his bloodshot eyes declared that the moment was not favorable for calm discussion. “It would be as well, perhaps, to adjourn this conversation,” said Culduff. “I'm for business--anywhere and at any moment. I made one of the best hits I ever chanced upon after a smash on the Trent Valley line. There was Boulders--of the firm of Skale and Boulders Brothers--had his shoulder dislocated and two of his front teeth knocked out. He was lying with a lot of scantling and barrel-staves over him, and he cried out, 'Is there any one there?' I said, 'Yes; Cutbill. Tom Cutbill, of Viceregal Terrace, St. John's Wood.'”