"You have come to the right man if you are thirsty," replied Goodridge solemnly. "I never drink between meals myself, but there are few places within the pale of civilization, where I can not help a fellow-creature to quench his thirst." With which exordium, he turned into a narrow lane or mews, at the farther end of which a mean little inn advertised its attractions by a sign from which the device had long since disappeared. "’Tis better inside than out," the reverend gentleman declared, and he was so far right that the unoccupied coffee-room was cleanly sanded and a bottle of not absolutely poisonous port was soon on the rough wooden table between the oddly assorted couple. Aarons plied his guest discreetly, while he led up to the subject he wished to discuss. He praised the beauty and charms of Lady Prudence, and congratulated Goodridge on the friendship of a lady so high in the queen’s favor. No doubt her influence would obtain some fat preferment for his reverence? Goodridge winked with great unction, but was not to be drawn by any mere conversational bait. "My interest in the viscountess is, of course, money," said Aarons, with an air of great frankness; "that is the only interest I have in any of these fine dames. They _will_ gamble at cards, and run into debt; until they get desperate and fly to me with their jewels, to stave off their creditors until luck turns or some wealthy relative leaves them a fortune. Many of them owe me money, and it is my business to see that they do not cheat me out of it. Sometimes it is worth my while to pay well for a little information." "Sometimes it may pay better to keep a secret than sell it," said Goodridge, with latent boastfulness. "Unless you are clever enough to make one pay you for keeping it and another for selling it," suggested Aarons. "Not that I want you to sell me any secret of the Viscountess Brooke’s. ’Tis easy for me to know all I want about her affairs. My interest is in her lover, Sir Geoffrey Beaudesert." Goodridge laughed and held out his glass for replenishment. "Sir Geoffrey, I fear, is not worthy of this lady," said Aarons, passing the bottle over to his guest. "She might make a much better match if she could be prevented from marrying him. It would suit me better to have her marry a rich man who could pay her debts, you understand, than one such as Sir Geoffrey, who is himself only kept out of prison by being in Parliament. Now, it is more than likely that such a gay gallant has many a little entanglement or intrigue or what not, that it would be useful for me to know about, and any one who could serve me by discovering some such irregularity would do a true kindness to the lady and help himself at the same time."