On returning to the passage, I found Vivian walking to and fro; he had
lighted his cigar, and was smoking energetically. "So this great
heiress," said he, smiling, "who, as far as I could see,--under her
hood,--seems no less fair than rich, is the daughter, I presume, of the
Mr. Trevanion, whose effusions you so kindly submit to me. He is very
rich, then! You never said so, yet I ought to have known it; but you
see I know nothing of your beau monde,--not even that Miss Trevanion is
one of the greatest heiresses in England."

"Yes, Mr. Trevanion is rich," said I, repressing a sigh,--very rich."

"And you are his secretary! My dear friend, you may well offer me
patience, for a large stock of yours will, I hope, be superfluous to
you."

"I don't understand you."

"Yet you heard that young gentleman, as well as myself and you are in
the same house as the heiress."

"Vivian!"

"Well, what have I said so monstrous?"

"Pooh! since you refer to that young gentleman, you heard, too, what
his companion told him, 'one ought to be an earl, at least, to aspire to
Fanny Trevanion!'"

"Tut! as well say that one ought to be a millionnaire to aspire to a