"A Jewess," suggested Nidderdale.

"What difference does that make?"

"What difference does that make?"
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"Oh no;—not in the least;—if the money's really there. Have you heard any sum named, sir?" The old man only grunted. "There are two sisters and two brothers. I don't suppose the girls would have a hundred thousand each."

"They say the widow of that brewer who died the other day has about twenty thousand a year."

"It's only for her life, sir."

"She could insure her life. D——me, sir, we must do something. If you turn up your nose at one woman after another how do you mean to live?"

"I don't think that a woman of forty with only a life interest would be a good speculation. Of course I'll think of it if you press it." The old man growled again. "You see, sir, I've been so much in earnest about this girl that I haven't thought of inquiring about any one else. There always is some one up with a lot of money. It's a pity there shouldn't be a regular statement published with the amount of money, and what is expected in return. It 'd save a deal of trouble."

"If you can't talk more seriously than that you'd better go away," said the old Marquis.