“That is true: I have. I should like your advice. Read that letter. Ought I to go? Would it look mercenary, grasping? You know what I mean.” Vance approached the candles and took the letter. He glanced first at the signature. “Darrell,” he exclaimed. “Oh, it is so, then!” He read with great attention, put down the letter, and shook Lionel by the hand. “I congratulate you: all is settled as it should be. Go? of course: you would be an ill-mannered lout if you did not. Is it far from hence must you return to town first?” LIONEL.--“No, I find I can get across the country,--two hours by the railway. There is a station at the town which bears the post-mark of the letter. I shall make for that, if you advise it.” “You knew I should advise it, or you would not have tortured your intellect by those researches into Bradshaw.” “Shrewdly said,” answered Lionel, laughing; “but I wished for your sanction of my crude impressions.” “You never told me your cousin’s name was Darrell: not that I should have been much wiser if you had; but, thunder and lightning, Lionel! do you know that your cousin Darrell is a famous man?” LIONEL.--“Famous!--Nonsense. I suppose he was a good lawyer, for I have heard my mother say, with a sort of contempt, that he had made a great fortune at the bar.” VANCE.--“But he was in Parliament.” LIONEL.--“Was he? I did not know.” VANCE.--“And this is senatorial fame! You never heard your schoolfellows talk of Mr. Darrell?--they would not have known his name if you had boasted of it?” LIONEL.--“Certainly not.” VANCE.--“Would your schoolfellows have known the names of Wilkie, of Landseer, of Turner, Maclise? I speak of painters.” LIONEL.--“I should think so, indeed.”