CHAPTER IV.

MR. BUMBLECASE, a word with you--I have a little business.
Farewell, the goodly Manor of Blackacre, with all its woods,
underwoods, and appurtenances whatever.--WYCHERLEY: _Plain Dealer_.

IN quitting Fenton's Hotel, Lord Vargrave entered into one of the clubs
in St. James's Street: this was rather unusual with him, for he was not a
club man. It was not his system to spend his time for nothing. But it
was a wet December day; the House was not yet assembled, and he had done
his official business. Here, as he was munching a biscuit and reading an
article in one of the ministerial papers--the heads of which he himself
had supplied--Lord Saxingham joined and drew him to the window.

"I have reason to think," said the earl, "that your visit to Windsor did
good."

"Ah, indeed; so I fancied."

"I do not think that a certain personage will ever consent to the -----
question; and the premier, whom I saw to-day, seems chafed and
irritated."

"Nothing can be better; I know that we are in the right boat."

"I hope it is not true, Lumley, that your marriage with Miss Cameron is
broken off; such was the _on dit_ in the club, just before you entered."

"Contradict it, my dear lord,--contradict it. I hope by the spring to