“Now, I am not going to beat about the bush, Mrs. Dugget,” said Theodore, with a matter-of-fact air. “I have a great respect for my kinsman, Lord Cheriton, who has been a kind friend to me. You may be assured, therefore, that if I am curious about his past life, I mean him no harm. I have reasons of my own, which it is not convenient for me to explain, for wanting to know all about his early struggles, his friends, and his enemies. I feel perfectly sure that you followed up your discovery of those envelopes—that you took the trouble to find Myrtle Cottage, and to ascertain the kind of people who lived there.” Her face told him that he was right. “If you choose to be frank with me, and tell me all you can, those two five-pound notes are very much at your service. If you prefer to hold your tongue, I can only wish you good afternoon, and try to make my discoveries unaided, which will not be very easy after a lapse of over twenty years.” “I don’t want to keep any useful information from you, sir, provided you’ll promise not to let anything I may tell you get to Lady Cheriton’s ears. I shouldn’t like to make unhappiness between man and wife.” “I promise that Lady Cheriton shall not be made unhappy by any indiscretion of mine.” “That’s all I care about, sir,” said Mrs. Dugget, piously, with her keen old eye upon the notes, “and being sure of that, I don’t mind owning that I did take the trouble to follow up the address upon the envelope. Now, when a gentleman like Mr. Dalbrook—a gentleman as always pays his way regular, and stands high in his profession—when such a gentleman as that changes his name, you may be sure there’s a lady in the case. If you take up a paper, sir, and happen to glance at a divorce case, promiscuous, as I do sometimes when my son-in-law leaves his _Telegraph_ or his _Echo_ lying about—you’ll find that the gentleman who runs away with the lady always changes his name first thing—whether he and the lady go to an hotel, or takes lodgings, or go on the Continent—he always takes another name. I don’t think the change does him much good, for wherever he goes people seem to know all about him, and come out with their knowledge in court directly it’s wanted—but it seems as if he must always act so, and act so he does.” Theodore submitted to this disquisition in silence, but he touched the notes lightly with his fingers and made them crackle, by way of stimulus to Mrs. Dugget’s intellect.