allude to his bachelor
habits. And in such conversation the first evening was chiefly
passed. Adela said almost nothing. The Wilkinson girls, who were
generally cheerful themselves, were depressed by Adela's sorrow--and
depressed also somewhat by what they knew of Bertram's affairs. On
this matter Mrs. Wilkinson was burning to speak; but she had made
up her mind to leave it in silence for one evening. She confined
herself, therefore, to the button question, and to certain allusions
to her own griefs. It appeared that she was not quite so happy with
reference to Arthur as one would have wished her to be. She did not
absolutely speak against him; but she said little snubbing things of
him, and seemed to think him by no means sufficiently grateful for
all the care she took of him.

That night, in the privacy of Adela's own room, something was said
about George Bertram. "I am sure he does not know it yet," said
Sophia.

"Caroline told me she would write to him," said Adela: "she would be
very wrong not to do so--very wrong."

"You may be sure he has not heard it," repeated the other. "Did you
not observe the way he spoke of Mr. Harcourt?"

"Sir Henry Harcourt," said Mary.

"I did not hear it," said Adela.

"Oh, he did speak of him. He said something about his great good
fortune. He never would have spoken in that way had he known it."

"Do you know," said Mary, "I do not think he would have come down
here had he heard it--not yet, at least."

The next morning two letters were laid before George Bertram as they
were sitting at breakfast. Then he did know it; then he did learn it,
and not till then. It was now the end of August, and in the coming
month of November--about the end of November--Sir Henry Harcourt, Her
Majesty's solicitor-general, and member for the Battersea Hamlets,
was to lead to the hymeneal altar Miss Caroline Waddington, the
granddaughter and presumed heiress of the great millionaire, Mr.
Bertram. Who so high now on the ladder of fortune as the fortunate
Sir Henry Harcourt? In love and politics and the realms of Plutus, he
carried all before him. Yes, Sir Henry Harcourt was the coming man.
Quidnuncs at the clubs began to say that he would give up the legal
side of politics and devote himself to statesmanship. He would be the
very man for a home secretary. Old Bertram, they observed, was known
to be dying. Old Bertram, they also observed, had made a distinct
promise to Sir Henry and his granddaug