Two, by Tricks: A Novel

by Edmund Yates

'Certainly,' said Uffington. 'The express passes at five, and we will go by that.'

'By that time I will have everything ready,' said Lady Forestfield, 'and in the mean while I will see Eleanor, tell her what has occurred, and ask her to make my excuses to her sister, who has unfortunately just arrived on a visit. And now for yourself, Sir Nugent. I am sure you are sinking from hunger and fatigue, and I will order some fresh luncheon for you at once.'

Mr. Chadwick, who seldom allowed anything to put him out, had ensconced himself in a corner of the library, and deep in a volume of the Life of Joseph Locke, was thoroughly enjoying the early struggles of that celebrated engineer, whose career greatly resembled his own, when he was startled by the loud tones of his wife's voice, and looking up, saw that lady in a state of great agitation by his side.

'O, here you are at last, James,' she said. 'I have been looking for you all over the house, and never thought you would have hidden yourself away among these dull, musty, old books. I wonder people of position do not attend more to their libraries. Now on our shelves there is not one single volume that is not handsomely bound.'

'Still, I would not mind swopping my book collection for this,' said the boiler-maker, looking round him with pleased eyes--'there are some rare works here, my Fan. However, I suppose it was not to talk about books that you have been "hunting" me, as you say?'

'No, indeed,' said Mrs. Chadwick; 'I have got the most extraordinary news for you. O, what do you think was the business that brought Sir Nugent Uffington here today?'

'Well, indeed, I cannot say,' said Mr. Chadwick reflectively, unless it were to propose for our pretty Eleanor. 'I have fancied ever since I first saw them together that Sir Nugent had a sneaking kindness for that girl.'

'Propose for Eleanor, indeed!' cried Mrs. Chadwick; 'nothing of the sort. No such idea ever entered Sir Nugent Uffington's head. He has fixed his fancy on some one else; and he is very likely to have his way.'

'Indeed!' said Mr. Chadwick, who, when the question of Eleanor was thus disposed of, had no farther interest in Sir Nugent Uffington's matrimonial project; 'indeed!'

'Yes,' said Mrs. Chadwick; 'and the chance has come about in this way. Sir Nugent has come down to say that Lord Forestfield is very ill indeed--almost dying, I believe--and that he wishes to be reconciled to his wife before his death.