"Suppose I open it and read it aloud, to get it out of our way?"

"Thank you, thank you."

"The letter is only from our champagne-making friends, the house at
Neuchatel. 'Dear Sir. We are in receipt of yours of the 28th ult.,
informing us that you have taken your Mr. Vendale into partnership,
whereon we beg you to receive the assurance of our felicitations. Permit
us to embrace the occasion of specially commanding to you M. Jules
Obenreizer.' Impossible!"

Wilding looked up in quick apprehension, and cried, "Eh?"

"Impossible sort of name," returned his partner, slightly--"Obenreizer.
'--Of specially commanding to you M. Jules Obenreizer, of Soho Square,
London (north side), henceforth fully accredited as our agent, and who
has already had the honour of making the acquaintance of your Mr.
Vendale, in his (said M. Obenreizer's) native country, Switzerland.' To
be sure! pooh pooh, what have I been thinking of! I remember now; 'when
travelling with his niece.'"

"With his--?" Vendale had so slurred the last word, that Wilding had not
heard it.

"When travelling with his Niece. Obenreizer's Niece," said Vendale, in a
somewhat superfluously lucid manner. "Niece of Obenreizer. (I met them
in my first Swiss tour, travelled a little with them, and lost them for
two years; met them again, my Swiss tour before last, and have lost them
ever since.) Obenreizer. Niece of Obenreizer. To be sure! Possible
sort of name, after all! 'M. Obenreizer is in possession of our absolute