lly necessary that Sir Henry Harcourt should know
what was to be done. If he were to have nothing, it was necessary
that he should know that. He had certainly counted on having
something, and on having something immediately. He was a thoroughly
hard-working man of business, but yet he was not an economical man. A
man who lives before the world in London, and lives chiefly among men
of fortune, can hardly be economical. He had not therefore any large
sum of money in hand. He was certainly in receipt of a large income,
but then his expenses were large. He had taken and now had to furnish
an expensive house in Eaton Square, and a few thousand pounds in
ready money were almost indispensable to him.

One Friday--this was after his return to town from the ten days'
grouse-shooting, and occurred at the time when he was most busy with
the County Courts--he wrote to Caroline to say that he would go down
to Hadley on Saturday afternoon, stay there over the Sunday, and
return to town on the Monday morning; that is to say, he would do so
if perfectly agreeable to Mr. Bertram.

He went down, and found everything prepared for him that was suitable
for a solicitor-general. They did not put before him merely roast
mutton or boiled beef. He was not put to sleep in the back bedroom
without a carpet. Such treatment had been good enough for George
Bertram; but for the solicitor-general all the glories of Hadley were
put forth. He slept in the best bedroom, which was damp enough no
doubt, seeing that it was not used above twice in the year; and went
through at dinner a whole course of _entrees_, such as _entrees_
usually are in the suburban districts. This was naturally gratifying
to him as a solicitor-general, and fortified him for the struggle he
was to make.

He had some hope that he should have a _tete-a-tete_ with Caroline
on the Saturday evening. But neither fate nor love would favour him.
He came down just before dinner, and there was clearly no time then:
infirm as the old man was, he sat at the dinner-table; and though
Sir Henry was solicitor-general, there was no second room, no
withdrawing-room prepared for his reception.

"Grandpapa does not like moving," said Caroline, as she got up to
leave the room after dinner; "so perhaps, Sir Henry, you will allow
me to come down to tea here? We always sit here of an evening."

"I never could bear to live in two rooms," said the old man. "When
one is just warm and comfortable, one ha