"Like Whigs in place," interrupted the politician.

"Right, Tomlinson, thanks to the milder properties of our drink, and
perchance to the stronger qualities of our heads; and now tell me, my
friend, what think you of our chance of success? Shall we catch an
heiress or not?"

"Why, really," said Tomlinson, "women are like those calculations in
arithmetic, which one can never bring to an exact account; for my part, I
shall stuff my calves, and look out for a widow. You, my good fellow,
seem to stand a fair chance with Miss ------"

"Oh, name her not!" cried Clifford, colouring, even through the flush
which wine had spread over his countenance. "Ours are not the lips by
which her name should be breathed; and, faith, when I think of her, I do
it anonymously."

"What, have you ever thought of her before this evening?"

"Yes, for months," answered Clifford. "You remember some time ago, when
we formed the plan for robbing Lord Mauleverer, how, rather for frolic
than profit, you robbed Dr. Slopperton, of Warlock, while I
compassionately walked home with the old gentleman. Well, at the
parson's house I met Miss Brandon--mind, if I speak of her by name, _you_
must not; and, by Heaven!--But I won't swear. I accompanied her home.
You know, before morning we robbed Lord Mauleverer; the affair made a
noise, and I feared to endanger you all if I appeared in the vicinity of
the robbery. Since then, business diverted my thoughts; we formed the
plan of trying a matrimonial speculation at Bath. I came hither,--guess