length of my tether, and--er--I'm thinking of turning over a new
leaf--reforming, you know--settling down--going in for
dulness--domesticity, and all the other deuced lot of it."

"It is an excellent resolution, that might have been arrived at
years ago with greater merit," says the professor.

"A preacher and a scientist in one! Dear sir, you go beyond the
possible," says Sir Hastings, with a shrug. "But to business. See
here, Thaddeus. I have told you a little of my plans, now hear the
rest. I intend to marry--an heiress, _bien entendu_--and it seems to
me that your ward, Miss Wynter, will suit me well enough."

"And Miss Wynter, will you suit _her_ well enough?"

"A deuced sight too well, I should say. Why, the girl is of no
family to signify, whereas the Curzons---- It will a better match
for her than in her wildest dreams she could have hoped for."

"Perhaps, in her wildest dreams, she hoped for a good man, and one
who could honestly love her."

"Pouf! You are hardly up to date, my dear fellow. Girls, now-a-days,
are wise enough to know they can't have everything, and she will get
a good deal. Title, position---- I say, Thaddeus, what I want of you
is, to--er--to help me in this matter--to--crack me up a bit,
eh?--to--_you_ know."

The professor is silent, more through disgust than want of anything
to say. Staring at the man before him, he knows he is loathsome to