upposing that the interview was
at an end. Persons better acquainted with the diplomatic habits of his
legal adviser would have recommended him to keep his seat. The time was
ripe for "Pedgift's postscript," and the lawyer's indicative snuff-box
was at that moment in one of his hands, as he opened the door with the
other.

"Good-evening," said Allan.

Pedgift Senior opened the door, stopped, considered, closed the door
again, came back mysteriously with his pinch of snuff in suspense
between his box and his nose, and repeating his invariable formula,
"By-the-by, there's a point occurs to me," quietly resumed possession of
his empty chair.

Allan, wondering, took the seat, in his turn, which he had just left.
Lawyer and client looked at each other once more, and the inexhaustible
interview began again.

VI. PEDGIFT'S POSTSCRIPT.

"I mentioned that a point had occurred to me, sir," remarked Pedgift
Senior.

"You did," said Allan.

"Would you like to hear what it is, Mr. Armadale?"

"If you please," said Allan.

"With all my heart, sir! This is the point. I attach considerable
importance--if nothing else can be done--to having Miss Gwilt privately
looked after, as long as she stops at Thorpe Ambrose. It struck me just
now at the door, Mr. Armadale, that what you are not willing to do
for your own security, you might be willing to do for the security of
another person."

"What other person?" inquired Allan.

"A young lady who is a near neighbor of yours, sir. Shall I mention the
name in confidence? Miss Milroy."

Allan started, and changed color.

"Miss Milroy!" he repeated. "Can _she_ be concerned in this miserable
business? I hope not, Mr. Pedgift; I sincerely hope not."

"I paid a visit, in your interests, sir, at the cottage this morning,"
proceeded Pedgift Senior. "You shall hear what happened there, and judge
for yourself. Major Milroy has been expressing his opinion of you pretty
freely; and I thought it highly desirable to give him a caution. It's
always the way with those quiet addle-headed men: when they do once wake
up, there's no reasoning with their obstinacy, and no quieting their
violence. Well, sir, this morning I went to the cottage. The major
and Miss Neelie were both in the parlor--miss not looking so pretty
as usual; pale, I thought, pale, and worn, and anxious. Up jumps the
addle-headed major (I wouldn't give _that_, Mr. Armadale, for the
brains of a man who can occupy himself