“I will not fail,” answered Wilton, “I will not fail.  In such a case as this it is scarcely possible to do too much, and very possible to do too little.  I trust your father will not detain me the whole day to-morrow.”

“Oh no!” replied Lord Sherbrooke:  “I am going to remove the cause, Wilton.  As soon as ever I arrived last night, I perceived that the Earl was delicately working at some grand scheme regarding the Duke, and I very soon perceived, too, that he was determined you and I should not have an opportunity of talking the matter over, for fear we should spoil proceedings.  I was obliged to watch my opportunity to-night with great nicety, but to-morrow I go back, that is to say, if my sweet Caroline is ready to go with me, for I am the most obedient and loving of husbands, as all reformed rakes are, you know, Wilton.”

“But is the lady in town, and at your father’s?” demanded Wilton, with surprise.

“She is in town, dearly beloved,” replied Lord Sherbrooke, “but certainly not at my father’s; and now, Wilton, ask me no more upon the subject, for, between you and me, I know little or nothing more myself.  I know not what brings her into London; who she comes to see here, or who the note was from that called her so suddenly up to this great den of iniquity.  It is a very horrible thing, Wilton, a very horrible thing, indeed,” he continued, in the same jesting tone, “that any woman should have secrets from her husband.  I have heard many matrons say so, and I believe them from my whole heart; but I’ve heard the same matrons say that there should be perfect reciprocity, which, perhaps, might mean that the wife and the husband were to have no secrets from each other, which, I am afraid, in my case, would never do, so I am fain to let her have this secret of her own, especially as she promises to tell me what it is in a few days.  Reciprocity is a fine thing, Wilton; but it is wonderful what a number of different sorts of reciprocity there are in this world.  Look there.  Do you know there is something that puzzles me about that house.”

“Why, that is Lord Sunbury’s,” replied Wilton; “but there are lights up in the drawing-room apparently.”

“Ay, that’s one part of the story that puzzles me,” said Lord Sherbrooke.  “I think the old housekeeper must be giving a drum.  My valet tells me that on Saturday morning last there was a hackney coach stopped at that house, and two men went into it:  one seemed a gentleman wrapped in a long cloak, the other looked like a valet, and stayed to get a number of packages out of the coach.  Now I cannot suspect that same old housekeeper, who, as far as I recollect, is much like one of the daughters of Erebus and Nox, of carrying on an amorous correspondence with any gentleman; and it is somewhat strange that she should have lent the use of her master’s house, either for love or money.  I should not wonder if the Earl himself had come to London before his baggage.”