"Ah, well, well; where the devil is Nero?"
"I am so sorry I can't oblige you. If it were anything else—"
"There is something else. My valet—I can't turn him adrift-excellent fellow, but gets drunk now and then. Will you find him a place in the Stamp Office?"
"With pleasure."
"No, now I think of it, the man knows my ways: I must keep him. But my old wine-merchant—civil man, never dunned—is a bankrupt. I am under great obligations to him, and he has a very pretty daughter. Do you think you could thrust him into some small place in the Colonies, or make him a King's Messenger, or something of the sort?"
"If you very much wish it, no doubt I can."
"My dear Audley, I am but feeling my way: the fact is, I want something for myself."
"Ah, that indeed gives me pleasure!" cried Egerton, with animation.
"The mission to Florence will soon be vacant,—I know it privately. The place would quite suit me. Pleasant city; the best figs in Italy; very little to do. You could sound Lord on the subject."
"I will answer beforehand. Lord—would be enchanted to secure to the public service a man so accomplished as yourself, and the son of a peer like Lord Lansmere."