“No; I don’t believe she ever sent the message her uncle gave me.  I don’t see why I’m to give her up, just because she’s got this money.”

“Nor I, Frank, to tell the truth; especially considering how badly you want it yourself.  But I don’t think quarrelling with the uncle is the surest way to get the niece.”

“But, man, he quarrelled with me.”

“It takes two people to quarrel.  If he quarrelled with you, do you be the less willing to come to loggerheads with him.”

“Wouldn’t it be the best plan, Dot, to carry her off?”

“She wouldn’t go, my boy:  rope ladders and post-chaises are out of fashion.”

“But if she’s really fond of me—­and, upon my honour, I don’t believe I’m flattering myself in thinking that she is—­why the deuce shouldn’t she marry me, malgre [27] Lord Cashel?  She must be her own mistress in a week or two.  By heavens, I cannot stomach that fellow’s arrogant assumption of superiority.”

     [FOOTNOTE 27:  malgre—­(French) in spite of; notwithstanding]

“It will be much more convenient for her to marry you bon gre [28] Lord Cashel, whom you may pitch to the devil, in any way you like best, as soon as you have Fanny Wyndham at Kelly’s Court.  But, till that happy time, take my advice, and submit to the cawing.  Rooks and ravens are respectable birds, just because they do look so wise.  It’s a great thing to look wise; the doing so does an acknowledged fool, like Lord Cashel, very great credit.”

     [FOOTNOTE 28:  bon gre—­(French) with the consent of]

“But what ought I to do?  I can’t go to the man’s house when he told me expressly not to do so.”

“Oh, yes, you can:  not immediately, but by and by—­in a month or six weeks.  I’ll tell you what I should do, in your place; and remember, Frank, I’m quite in earnest now, for it’s a very different thing playing a game for twenty thousand pounds, which, to you, joined to a wife, would have been a positive irreparable loss, and starting for five or six times that sum, which would give you an income on which you might manage to live.”

“Well, thou sapient counsellor—­but, I tell you beforehand, the chances are ten to one I sha’n’t follow your plan.”

“Do as you like about that:  you sha’n’t, at any rate, have me to blame.  I would in the first place, assure myself that Fanny inherited her brother’s money.”

“There’s no doubt about that.  Lord Cashel said as much.”

“Make sure of it however.  A lawyer’ll do that for you, with very little trouble.  Then, take your name off the turf at once; it’s worth your while to do it now.  You may either do it by a bona fide sale of the horses, or by running them in some other person’s name.  Then, watch your opportunity, call at Grey Abbey, when the earl is not at home, and manage to see some of the ladies.  If you can’t do that, if you can’t effect an entree, write to Miss Wyndham; don’t be too lachrymose, or supplicatory, in your style, but ask her to give you a plain answer personally, or in her own handwriting.”