"Grubley."

"Lord Grubley!--Baron Grubley of Grubley--oh, atrocious! Who had the
place before you?"

"Bought it of Mr. Sheepshanks--very old family."

"But surely some old Norman once had the place?"

"Norman, yes! Henry the Second gave it to his barber--Bertram Courval."

"That's it!--that's it! Lord de Courval--singular coincidence!--descent
from the old line. Herald's College soon settle all that. Lord de
Courval!--nothing can sound better. There must be a village or hamlet
still called Courval about the property."

"I am afraid not. There is Coddle End!"

"Coddle End!--Coddle End!--the very thing, sir--the very thing--clear
corruption from Courval!--Lord de Courval of Courval! Superb! Ha! ha!"

"Ha! ha!" laughed Templeton, and he had hardly laughed before since he
was thirty.

The relations sat long and conversed familiarly. Ferrers slept at the
villa, and his sleep was sound; for he thought little of plans once
formed and half executed; it was the hunt that kept him awake, and he
slept like a hound when the prey was down. Not so Templeton, who did
not close his eyes all night.--"Yes, yes," thought he, "I must get the
fortune and the title in one line by a prudent management. Ferrers