ceteras_ were lifted in and hurried up the stairs to my room, whither I
followed them.

While I was at my toilet, in came Mark Wylder laughing, as was his wont,
and very unceremoniously he took possession of my easy-chair, and threw
his leg over the arm of it.

'I'm glad you're come, Charlie; you were always a good fellow, and I
really want a hand here confoundedly. I think it will all do very nicely;
but, of course, there's a lot of things to be arranged--settlements, you
know--and I can't make head or tail of their lingo, and a fellow don't
like to sign and seal hand over head--_you_ would not advise that, you
know; and Chelford is a very good fellow, of course, and all that--but
he's taking care of Dorcas, you see; and I might be left in the lurch.'

'It is a better way, at all events, Mark, than Wylder _versus_ Trustees
of Brandon, minor,' said I.

'Well, things do turn out very oddly; don't they?' said Mark with a sly
glance of complacency, and his hands in his pockets. 'But I know you'll
hold the tiller till I get through; hang me if I know the soundings, or
where I'm going; and you have the chart by heart, Charlie.'

'I'm afraid you'll find me by no means so well up now as six years ago in
"Wylder and Brandon;" but surely you have your lawyer, Mr. Larkin,
haven't you?'

'To be sure--that's exactly it--he's Dorcas's agent. I don't know
anything about him, and I do know you--don't you see? A fellow doesn't
want to put himself into the hands of a stranger altogether, especially a