the slightest difficulty.
"The old story," thought this wary old head, wagging privately on its
lusty young shoulders, "There's a woman in the case, as usual. Any other
business would have been turned over to me." Perfectly satisfied with
this conclusion, Mr. Pedgift the younger proceeded, with an eye to his
professional interest, to make himself agreeable to his client in the
capacity of volunteer courier. He seized on the whole administrative
business of the journey to London, as he had seized on the whole
administrative business of the picnic at the Broads. On reaching the
terminus, Allan was ready to go to any hotel that might be recommended.
His invaluable solicitor straight-way drove him to a hotel at which the
Pedgift family had been accustomed to put up for three generations.

"You don't object to vegetables, sir?" said the cheerful Pedgift, as
the cab stopped at a hotel in Covent Garden Market. "Very good; you may
leave the rest to my grandfather, my father, and me. I don't know which
of the three is most beloved and respected in this house. How d'ye do,
William? (Our head-waiter, Mr. Armadale.) Is your wife's rheumatism
better, and does the little boy get on nicely at school? Your master's
out, is he? Never mind, you'll do. This, William, is Mr. Armadale of
Thorpe Ambrose. I have prevailed on Mr. Armadale to try our house. Have
you got the bedroom I wrote for? Very good. Let Mr. Armadale have it
instead of me (my grandfather's favorite bedroom, sir; No. 57, on the
second floor); pray take it; I can sleep anywhere. Will you have the
mattress on the top of the feather-bed? You hear, William? Tell Matilda,
the mattress on the top of the feather-bed. How is Matilda? Has she got
the toothache, as usual? The head-chambermaid, Mr. Armadale, and a most
extraordinary woman; she will _not_ part with a hollow tooth in her
lower jaw. My grandfather says, 'Have it out;' my father says, 'Have it
out;' I say, 'Have it out;' and Matilda turns a deaf ear to all three of
us. Yes, William, yes; if Mr. Armadale approves, this sitting-room will
do. About dinner, sir? Shall we say, in that case, half-past seven?
William, half-past seven. Not the least need to order anything, Mr.
Armadale. The head-waiter has only to give my compliments to the cook,
and the best dinner in London will be sent up, punctual to the minute,
as a necessary consequence. Say, Mr. Pedgift Junior, if you please,
William; otherwise, sir, we might get my grandfa