“All you have to do,” pursued Corey, “is to give him time, and he'll found a fortune and a family, and his children's children will be cutting ours in society. Half of our great people have come up in that way. Look at the Blue-book, where our nobility is enrolled; it's the apotheosis of farm-boys, mechanics, insidemen, and I don't know what!” “But in the meantime this ancestor is now so remote that he has nothing to do,” suggested Sewell. “If you give him time you kill him.” “Well, what do you want me to do? Mrs. Corey is thinking of setting up a Buttons. But you say this boy has a soul above buttons. And besides, he's too old.” “Yes.” “Look here, Bromfield,” said Bellingham, “why don't you get _him_ to read to you?” Corey glanced from his cousin to the minister, whose face betrayed that this was precisely what he had had in his own mind. “Is that the job?” asked Corey. Sewell nodded boldly. “He would read through his nose, wouldn't he? I couldn't stand that. I've stopped talking through mine, you know.” “Why, look here, Bromfield!” said Bellingham for the second time. “Why don't you let me manage this affair for you? I'm not of much use in the world, but from time to time I like to do my poor best; and this is just one of the kind of things I think I'm fitted for. I should like to see this young man. When I read in the newspapers of some fellow who has done a fine thing, I always want to see what manner of man he is; and I'm glad of any chance that throws him in my way.” “Your foible's notorious, Charles. But I don't see why you keep my cigars all to yourself,” said Corey. “My dear fellow,” said Bellingham, making a hospitable offer of the cigar-box from the mantel, “you said they'd cut you off.” “Ah, so they have. I forgot. Well, what's your plan?” “My plan,” said Bellingham, “is to have him to breakfast with me, and interview him generally, and get him to read me a few passages, without rousing his suspicions. Heigh?” “I don't know that I believe much in your plan,” said Corey. “I should like to hear what my spiritual adviser has to say.” “I shouldn't know what to advise, exactly,” said Sewell. “But I won't reject any plan that gives my client a chance.” “Isn't client rather euphuistic?” asked Corey. “It is, rather. But I've got into the habit of handling Barker very delicately, even in thought. I'm not sure he'll come,” added Sewell, turning to Bellingham. “Oh yes, he will,” said Bellingham. “Tell him it's business. There won't be anybody there. Will nine be too late for him?” “I imagine he's more accustomed to half-past five at home, and seven here.”