‘What have I to do with Vandewater’s fortune?’ cried the youth surprised.
‘What has she to do with his fortune? what is hers is yours, you know, if you come together.’
Monteagle looked mystified.
‘You know,’ continued Blodget, ‘that Julia is—’
‘Julia?’
‘Yes, Mr. Vandewater’s niece—’
‘What have you been talking about?’ cried Monteagle.
‘She loves you! Fact! Don’t stare at me so incredulously. See, my boy—’ clapping him on the shoulder—‘the game’s in your own hands if you only play your cards right.’
Monteagle sank back in his chair looking listlessly upon his half-emptied glass, while Blodget went on for a considerable time descanting on the merits of Julia Vandewater, and the brilliant prospects that would open upon Monteagle if he married her.
‘No matter,’ said our youth, carelessly. ‘That doctor must be a regular gossip, and deserves to be called out for publishing family secrets with which he has been entrusted.’