“Four contested elections for a county, ma'am, a spendthrift wife, and a gambling son, rarely increase a man's income,” said he, sententiously. “Do he play? What for play is he fond of?” asked the Pole, eagerly. “Play, sir? There is nothing an Englishman will not play at, from the turf, to tossing for sovereigns.” “So Hamlet say, in Shakspeare, 'de play is de ting,'” cried the Count, with the air of a man who made a happy quotation. “They are going to have plays,” broke in Purvis; “Jekyl let it out to-night. They 're going to get up a Vauvau-vau-vau--” “A tete de veau, probably, sir,” said Haggerstone; “In which case,” continued he, in a whisper, “you would be invaluable.” “No, it is n't that,” broke in Purvis; “they are to have what they call Proverbs.” “I trust they have engaged your services as Solomon, sir,” said Haggerstone, with that look of satisfaction which always followed an impudent speech. “I heard the subject of one of them,” resumed the other, who was far too occupied with his theme to bestow a thought upon a sarcasm. “There's a lady in love with with with her Mam-mam-mam--” “Her mamma,” suggested the Pole. “No, it is n't her mamma; it's her Mam-ame-ameluke her Mameluke slave; and he, who is a native prince, with a great many wives of his own--” “Oh, for shame, Scroope, you forget Martha is here,” said Mrs. Ricketts, who was always ready to suppress the bore by a call to order on the score of morals. “It isn't wrong, I assure you; just hear me out; let me only explain--” “There, pray don't insist, I beg you,” said Mrs. Ricketts, with a regal wave of her hand. “Why, it's Miss Dalton is to play it, Jekyl says,” cried Purvis, in a tone of most imploring cadence. “And who may Miss Dalton be?” asked Mrs. Ricketts. “She is the niece no, she's the aunt or rather her father is aunt to to--” “He may be an old lady, sir; but, surely--” “Oh, I have it now!” broke in Purvis. “It was her mother; Miss Da-a-alton's mother was uncle to a Stafford.” “Perhaps I can shorten the pedigree,” said Haggerstone, tartly. “The young lady is the daughter of a man whom this same Sir Stafford tricked out of his fortune; they were distant relatives, so he had n't even the plea of blood-relationship to cover his iniquity. It was, however, an Irish fortune, and, like a Spanish chateau, its loss is more a question of feeling than of fact. The lawyers still say that Dalton's right is unimpeachable, and that the Onslows have not even the shadow of a case for a jury.” “An' have de lady no broder nor sister?” asked the Count, who had heard this story with much attention. “She has, sir, both brother and sister, but both illegitimate, so that this girl is the heiress to the estate.” “And probably destined to be the wife of the young Guardsman,” said Mrs. Ricketts. “Guessed with your habitual perspicuity, madam,” said Haggerstone, bowing. “How very shocking! What worldliness one sees everywhere!” cried she, plaintively.