d after
that, and establish his own assertion by his own witnesses. What do you
say, Sir Patrick, to Saturday next (with Lady Lundie's permission) in
this room?'--There is the substance of the captain's statement. He is
as old as I am and is dressed to look like thirty; but a very pleasant
fellow for all that. I struck my sister-in-law dumb by accepting the
proposal without a moment's hesitation. Mrs. Glenarm and Lady Lundie
looked at each other in mute amazement. Here was a difference about
which two women would have mortally quarreled; and here were two men
settling it in the friendliest possible manner. I wish you had seen
Lady Lundie's face, when I declared myself deeply indebted to Captain
Newenden for rendering any prolonged interview with her ladyship quite
unnecessary. 'Thanks to the captain,' I said to her, in the most cordial
manner, 'we have absolutely nothing to discuss. I shall catch the next
train, and set Arnold Brinkworth's mind quite at ease.' To come back to
serious things, I have engaged to produce you, in the presence of every
body--your wife included--on Saturday next. I put a bold face on it
before the others. But I am bound to tell _you_ that it is by no means
easy to say--situated as we are now--what the result of Saturday's
inquiry will be. Every thing depends on the issue of my interview with
Miss Silvester to-morrow. It is no exaggeration to say, Arnold, that
your fate is in her hands."

"I wish to heaven I had never set eyes on her!" said Arnold.

"Lay the saddle on the right horse," returned Sir Patrick. "Wish you had
never set eyes on Geoffrey Delamayn."

Arnold hung his head. Sir Patrick's sharp tongue had got the better of
him once more.

TWELFTH SCENE.--DRURY LANE.

CHAPTER THE FORTY-FOURTH.

THE LETTER AND THE LAW.

THE many-toned murmur of the current of London life--flowing through the
murky channel of Drury Lane--found its muffled way from the front room
to the back. Piles of old music lumbered the dusty floor. Stage masks
and weapons, and portraits of singers and dancers, hung round the walls.
An empty violin case in one corner faced a broken bust of Rossini in
another. A frameless print, representing the Trial of Queen Caroline,
was pasted over the fireplace. The chairs were genuine specimens of
ancient carving in oak. The table was an equally excellent example of
dirty modern deal. A small morsel of drugget was on the floor; and a
large deposit of soot was on th