had not suspected such weakness, but argued well from it for the
business he had in hand. There must be a soft spot to be found about
the heart of an old lawyer who spent his mornings in such occupation.
"How do you do, sir?" said Mr. Wharton rising from his seat. "I hope
I see you well, sir." Though he had been reading a novel his tone
and manner were very cold. Lopez had never been in Stone Buildings
before, and was not quite sure that he might not have committed some
offence in coming there. "Take a seat, Mr. Lopez. Is there anything I
can do for you in my way?"

There was a great deal that could be done "in his way" as
father;--but how was it to be introduced and the case made clear?
Lopez did not know whether the old man had as yet ever suspected
such a feeling as that which he now intended to declare. He had
been intimate at the house in Manchester Square, and had certainly
ingratiated himself very closely with a certain Mrs. Roby, who had
been Mrs. Wharton's sister and constant companion, who lived in
Berkeley Street, close round the corner from Manchester Square, and
spent very much of her time with Emily Wharton. They were together
daily, as though Mrs. Roby had assumed the part of a second mother,
and Lopez was well aware that Mrs. Roby knew of his love. If there
was real confidence between Mrs. Roby and the old lawyer, the old
lawyer must know it also;--but as to that Lopez felt that he was in
the dark.

The task of speaking to an old father is not unpleasant when the
lover knows that he has been smiled upon, and, in fact, approved for
the last six months. He is going to be patted on the back, and made
much of, and received into the family. He is to be told that his
Mary or his Augusta has been the best daughter in the world and will
therefore certainly be the best wife, and he himself will probably on
that special occasion be spoken of with unqualified praise,--and all
will be pleasant. But the subject is one very difficult to broach
when no previous light has been thrown on it. Ferdinand Lopez,
however, was not the man to stand shivering on the brink when a
plunge was necessary,--and therefore he made his plunge. "Mr.
Wharton, I have taken the liberty to call upon you here, because I
want to speak to you about your daughter."

"About my daughter!" The old man's surprise was quite genuine. Of
course when he had given himself a moment to think, he knew what must
be the nature of his visitor's communicati