that I can estimate their value, and try to
repay it." Poor Mr. Stocmar, your breathing is more flurried than ever.
So agitated, indeed, was he, that it was some seconds ere he became
conscious that she had entered upon a narrative for which she had
bespoken his attention, and whose details he only caught some time
after their commencement. "You thus perceive, sir," said she, "the great
importance of time in this affair. Sir William is confined to his room
with gout, in considerable pain, and, naturally enough, far too much
engrossed by his sufferings to think of anything else; Miss Leslie has
her own preoccupations, and, though the loss of a large sum of money may
not much increase them, the disaster will certainly serve to engage her
attention. This is precisely the moment to get rid of Clara with the
least possible _eclat_; we shall all be in such a state of confusion
that her departure will scarcely be felt or noticed."

"Upon my life, madam," said Stocmar, drawing a long breath, "you
frighten--you actually terrify me; you go to every object you have in
view with such energy and decision, noting every chance circumstance
which favors you, so nicely balancing motives, and weighing
probabilities with such cool accuracy, that I feel how we men are mere
puppets, to be moved about the board at your will."

"And for what is the game played, my dear Mr. Stocmar?" said she, with a
seductive smile. "Is it not to win some one amongst you?"

"Oh, by Jove! if a man could only flatter himself that he held the
right number, the lottery would be glorious sport."

"If the prize be such as you say, is not the chance worth something?"
And these words were uttered with a downcast shyness that made every
syllable of them thrill within him.

"What does she mean?" thought he, in all the flurry of his excited
feelings. "Is she merely playing me off to make use of me, or am I
to believe that she really will--after all? Though I confess to
thirty-eight--I am actually no more than forty-two--only a little bald
and gray in the whiskers, and--confound it, she guesses what is passing
through my head.--What _are_ you laughing at; do, I beg of you, tell me
truly what it is?" cried he, aloud.

"I was thinking of an absurd analogy, Mr. Stocmar; some African
traveller--I'm not sure that it is not Mungo Park--mentions that he used
to estimate the depth of the rivers by throwing stones into them, and
watching the time it took for the air bubble