"That's true. I had thought of that myself. But then there's a particular reason for my telling you this. It is about a young lady! You won't tell; will you?"
"No, I won't. But I can't see why on earth you should come to me. You are ever so many years older than I am."
"I had thought of that too. But you are just the person I must tell. I want you to help me."
These last words were said in a whisper, and Dolly as he said them had drawn nearer to his friend. Silverbridge remained in suspense, saying nothing by way of encouragement. Dolly, either in love with his own mystery or doubtful of his own purpose, sat still, looking eagerly at his companion. "What the mischief is it?" asked Silverbridge impatiently.
"I have quite made up my own mind."
"That's a good thing at any rate."
"I am not what you would have called a marrying sort of man."
"I should have said,—no. But I suppose most men do marry sooner or later."
"That's just what I said to myself. It has to be done, you know. There are three different properties coming to me. At least one has come already."
"You're a lucky fellow."