cealing from him, at least in a degree, the ultimate
objects and designs which she herself had in view.

So shrewd people often deceive themselves as to the character of other
shrewd people. The difficulty was quite different. It was a peculiar
sort of stolidity on the part of Mr. Shanks, for which she was utterly
unprepared.

Now the attorney was ready to do any thing on earth which his fair
patroness wished. He would have perilled his name on the roll in her
service; and was only eager to understand what were her desires, even
without giving her the trouble of explaining them. Moreover, there was
no point of law or equity, no manner of roguery or chicanery, no object
of avarice, covetousness, or ambition, which he could not have
comprehended at once. They were things within his own ken and scope, to
which the intellect and resources of his mind were always open. But to
other passions, to deeper, more remote motives and emotions, Mr. Shanks
was as stolid as a door-post. It required to hew a way as it were to his
perceptions, to tunnel his mind for the passage of a new conception.

The only passion which afforded the slightest cranny of an opening was
revenge; and after having tried a dozen other ways of making him
comprehend what she wished without committing herself, Mrs. Hazleton got
him to understand that she thought Sir Philip Hastings had injured--at
all events, that he had offended--her, and that she sought vengeance.
From that moment all was easy. Mr. Shanks could understand the feeling,
though not its extent. He would himself have given ten pounds out of his
own pocket--the largest sum he had ever given in life for any thing but
an advantage--to be revenged upon the same man for the insult he had
received; and he could perceive that Mrs. Hazleton would go much
further, without, indeed, being able to conceive, or even dream of, the
extent to which she was prepared to go.

However, when he had once got the clue, he was prepared to run along the
road with all celerity; and now she found him every thing she had
expected. He was a man copious in resources, prolific of schemes. His
imagination had exercised itself through life in devising crooked paths;
but in this instance the road was straight-forward before him. He would
rather it had been tortuous, it is true; but for the sake of his dear
lady he was ready to follow even a plain path, and he explained to her
that Sir Philip Hastings stood in a somewhat dangero