been a mil-mil-million by this ti-ti-time, if the good old gentleman--I
beg pardon--old--old nobleman, my poor dear friend, had been now alive!"

"Indeed!" said Lumley, greedily, and pricking up his ears; "he was a good
manager, my uncle!"

"None better, none better. I may say a genius for busi--hem-hem! Miss
Cameron a young woman of bus-bus-business, my lord?"

"Not much of that, I fear. A million, did you say?"

"At least!--indeed, at least--money so scarce, speculation so sure in
America; great people the Americans, rising people, gi-gi-giants
--giants!"

"I am wasting your whole morning,--too bad in me," said Vargrave, as the
clock struck five; "the Lords meet this evening,--important business;
once more a thousand thanks to you; good day."

"A very good day to you, my lord; don't mention it; glad at any time to
ser-ser-serve you," said Mr. Douce, fidgeting, curveting, and prancing
round Lord Vargrave, as the latter walked through the outer office to the
carriage.

"Not a step more; you will catch cold. Good-by--on Monday, then, seven
o'clock. The House of Lords."

And Lumley threw himself back in his carriage in high spirits.