Sir Francis Deighton is most happy to have been the means through which the son of an old friend has been introduced into the service of the Crown.
I have the honor to be, sir,
Your obedient Servant,
Grey Egerton D'Eyncourt, Private Secretary.
“What will he say now, Gusty?” said she, triumphantly.
“He will probably say, 'What 's it worth?' Nelly. 'How much is the income?'”
“I suppose he will. I take it he will measure a friend's good feeling towards us by the scale of an official salary, as if two or three hundred a year more or less could affect the gratitude we must feel towards a real patron.”
A slight twinge of pain seemed to move Bramleigh's mouth; but he grew calm in a moment, and merely said, “We must wait till we hear more.”
“But your mind is at ease, Gusty? Tell me that your anxieties are all allayed?” cried she, eagerly.
“Yes; in so far that I have got something,—that I have not met a cold refusal.”