“I like the man, and I like his letter,” said Barrington.
“I distrust both one and the other,” said Miss Dinah.
“I almost fancy I could hold a brief on either side,” interposed Withering.
“Of course you could, sir; and if the choice were open to you, it would be the defence of the guilty.”
“My dear Miss Barrington,” said Withering, calmly, “when a great legal authority once said that he only needed three lines of any man's writing 'to hang him,' it ought to make us very lenient in our construction of a letter. Now, so far as I can see in this one before us, he neither asks nor protests too much. He begs simply for time, he entreats leave to draw a bill on your affections, and he promises to meet it.”
“No, sir, he wishes to draw at sight, though he has never shown us the letter of credit.”
“I vow to Heaven it is hopeless to expect anything practical when you two stand up together for a sparring-match,” cried Barrington.
“Be practical, then, brother Peter, and ask this gentleman to give you a quarter of an hour in your study. Find out who he is; I don't expect you to learn what he is, but what he has. With his fortune we shall get the clew to himself.”
“Yes,” chimed in Withering, “all that is very businesslike and reasonable.”
“And it pledges us to nothing,” added she. “We take soundings, but we don't promise to anchor.”