eresting young person--to whom, Mr. Linden
confidentially informed us, his son Tom had been for some time engaged.

"I don't know much about her family," observed Mr. Linden one day, in the
course of a gossip at the office, "but she moves in very respectable
society. Tom met her at the Slades'; but I _do_ know she has something
like thirty-five thousand pounds in the funds. The instant I was informed
how matters stood with the young folk, I, as a matter of common sense and
business, asked the mother, Mrs. Arnold, for a reference to her banker or
solicitor--there being no doubt that a woman and a minor would be in
lawyers' leading-strings--and she referred me to Messrs. Dobson of
Chancery Lane. You know the Dobsons?"

"Perfectly,--what was the reply?"

"That Catherine Arnold, when she came of age--it wants but a very short
time of that now--would be entitled to the capital of thirty-four
thousand seven hundred pounds, bequeathed by an uncle, and now lodged in
the funds in the names of the trustees, Crowther & Jenkins, of Leadenhall
Street, by whom the interest on that sum was regularly paid,
half-yearly, through the Messrs. Dobson, for the maintenance and
education of the heiress. A common-sense, business-like letter in every
respect, and extremely satisfactory; and as soon as he pleases, after
Catherine Arnold comes of age, and into actual possession of her fortune,
Tom may have her, with my blessing over the bargain."

I dined at Laurel Villa, Fulham, about two months after this
conversation, and Linden and I found ourselves alone over the
dessert--the young people having gone out for a stroll, attracted
doubtless by the gay aspect of the Thames, which flows past the miniature
grounds attached to the villa. Never had I seen Mr. Linden in so gay, so
mirthful a mood.

"Pass the decanter," he exclaimed, the instant the door had closed upon
Tom and his _fiancee_. "Pass the decanter, Sharp; I have news for you, my
boy, now they are gone."

"Indeed! and what may the news be?"

"Fill a bumper for yourself, and I'll give you a toast. Here's to the
health and prosperity of the proprietor of the Holmford estate; and may
he live a thousand years, and one over!--Hip--hip--hurra!"

He swallowed his glass of wine, and then, in his intensity of glee,
laughed himself purple.

"You needn't stare so," he said, as soon as he had partially recovered
breath; "I am the proprietor of the Holmford property--bought it for
fifty-six