“Antecedents family fortune,” wrote Haggerstone. “If dey have de tin,” chimed in the Pole. “If they be moral and of irreproachable reputation,” said Mrs. Ricketts. “Are they related to the other Dawkinses?” asked Purvis. “Let him ask if their mother was not godfather to no, I mean grandfather to the Reverend Jere-Jere-Jere--” “Be quiet, Scroope will you be quiet?” “There, you have it all, now,” said Haggerstone, as he finished writing; “their 'family, fortune, flaws, and frailties' 'what they did, and where they did it' observing accuracy as to Christian names, and as many dates as possible.” “I'll do it,” said Foglass, as he read over the “instruction.” “We want it soon, too,” said Mrs. Ricketts. “Tell him we shall need the information at once.” “This with speed,” wrote Haggerstone at the foot of the memorandum. Foglass bowed a deep assent. “How like his grandfather!” said Mrs. Ricketts, in ecstasy. “I never knew he had one,” whispered Haggerstone to the Pole. “His father was a coachmaker in Long Acre.” “Is he not thought very like them?” asked Mrs. Ricketts, with a sidelong glance of admiration at the auburn peruke. “I've heard that the wig is authentic, madam.” “He has so much of that regal urbanity in his manner.” “If he is not the first gentleman of England,” muttered Haggerstone to himself, “he is the first one in his own family, at least.” “By the way,” said Mrs. Ricketts, hastily, “let him inquire into that affair of Lord Norwood.” “No necessity, madam. The affair is in 'Bell's Life,' with the significant question, 'Where is he?' But he can learn the particulars, at all events.” And he made a note in the book. “How dreadful all this, and how sad to think Florence should be the resort of such people!” “If it were not for rapparees and refugees, madam, house-rent would be very inexpensive,” said the Colonel, in a subdued voice; while, turning to the Pole, he added, “and if respectability is to be always a caricature, I'd as soon have its opposite. I suppose you do not admit the Viscount, madam?” “He has not ventured to present himself,” said Mrs. Ricketts, proudly. “I hope that there is, at least, one sanctuary where virtue can live unmolested.” And, as she spoke, she looked over at Martha, who was working away patiently; but whether happy in the exclusive tariff aforesaid, or somewhat tired of “protection,” we are unable to say. “What has he do?” asked the Count. “He has done the 'ring' all round, I believe,” said Haggerstone, chuckling at a joke which he alone could appreciate.