sure she is not in America after all?"

"I have told you before that that story about America was all bosh! a
stratagem of the old gentleman's to deceive me. Poor old man," continued
Jasper, in a tone that positively betrayed feeling, "I don't wonder that
he dreads and flies me; yet I would not hurt him more than I have done,
even to be as well off as you are--blinking at me from your mahogany
perch like a pet owl with its crop full of mice. And if I would take the
girl from him, it is for her own good. For if Darrell could be got to
make a provision on her, and, through her, on myself, why, of course the
old man should share the benefit of it. And now that these infernal
pains often keep me awake half the night, I can't always shut out the
idea of that old man wandering about the world, and dying in a ditch.
And that runaway girl--to whom, I dare swear, he would give away his last
crumb of bread--ought to be an annuity to us both: Basta, basta! As to
the American story--I had a friend at Paris, who went to America on a
speculation; I asked him to inquire about this Willaim Waife and his
granddaughter Sophy, who were said to have sailed for New York nearly
five years ago, and he saw the very persons--settled in New York--no
longer under the name of Waife, but their true name of Simpson, and got
out from the man that they had been induced to take their passage from
England in the name of Waife, at the request of a person whom the mail
would not-give up, but to whom he said he was under obligations. Perhaps
the old gentleman had done the fellow a kind turn in early life. The
description of this /soi-disant/ Waife and his grandchild settles the
matter--wholly unlike those I seek; so that there is every reason to
suppose they must still be in England, and it is your business to find
them. Continue your search--quicken your wits--let me be better pleased
with your success when I call again this day week--and meanwhile four
pounds, if you please--as much more as you like."