-reliance and content."

"Not content, old boy; I never had much of that."

"Well, we won't argue, will we? But as to the child-angel--what next?
You'll call again?"

"Of course."

"When?"

"To-morrow."

"Strike while the iron is hot, hey? Well, old man, I'll stand by you.
Still I wish you could find out who her people are, just to satisfy a
legitimate curiosity."

"Well, I don't know the Fays, but Lady Dalrymple is her aunt; and I
know, too, that she is a niece of Sir Gilbert Biggs."

"What!" cried Hawbury, starting. "Who? Sir what?"

"Sir Gilbert Biggs."

"Sir Gilbert Biggs?"

"Yes."

"Sir Gilbert Biggs! By Jove! Are you sure you are right? Come, now.
Isn't there some mistake?"

"Not a bit of a mistake; she's a niece of Sir Gilbert. I remember
that, because the name is a familiar one."

"Familiar!" repeated Hawbury; "I should think so. By Jove!"

Hawbury here relapsed into silence, and sat with a frown on his face,
and a puzzled expression. At times he would mutter such words as,
"Deuced odd!" "Confounded queer!" "What a lot!" "By Jove!" while
Dacres looked at him in some surprise.

"Look here, old fellow!" said he at last. "Will you have the kindness
to inform me what there is in the little fact I just mentioned to
upset a man of your size, age, fighting weight, and general coolness
of blood?"

"Well, there is a deuced odd coincidence about it, that's all."

"Coincidence with what?"

"Well, I'll tell some other time. It's a sore subject, old fellow.
Another time, my boy. I'll only mention now that it's the cause of my
present absence from England. There's a bother that I don't care to
encounter, and Sir Gilbert Biggs's nieces are at the bottom of it."

"You don't mean this one, I hope?" cried Dacres, in some alarm.

"Heaven forbid! By Jove! No. I hope not."

"No, I hope not, by Jove!" echoed the other.

"Well, old man," said Hawbury, after a fit of silence, "I suppose
you'll push matters on now, hard and fast, and launch yourself into
matrimony?"

"Well--I--suppose--so," said Dacres, hesitatingly.

"You _suppose_ so. Of course you will. Don't I know you, old chap?
Impetuous, tenacious of purpose, iron will, one idea, and all that
sort of thing. Of course you will; and you'll be married in a month."

"Well," said Dacres, in the same hesitating way, "not so soon as that,
I'm afraid."

"Why not?"

"Why, I have to get the lady first."

"The lady; oh, she seems to be willing enough