So Mary and Richards had a long “confab” together, and she went back home happy and smiling.
After she had gone Richards lit another pipe, threw himself on a rocking-chair, and smoked long and thoughtfully. Then he got up and took a rapid turn or two up and down the floor. Presently he paused, and gazed curiously at himself in a mirror.
“Old Richards,” he said, shaking his fist at his reflection, “I didn’t think it was in you. You’re a designing, unscrupulous old lawyer. Never mind; it’s all for my baby’s sake. I’ll do it. Hang me if I don’t.”
An hour after this, Richards had called a carriage—a luxury he indulged in very seldom indeed. He first visited the lawyer who had transacted the business of the Grantley Hall mortgage for him. With this gentleman he was closeted for some considerable time. Then he drove to a fashionable tailor’s, then to a jeweller’s, and next to a wine-merchant’s, and as all those individuals showed him to his carriage with many gracious smiles and bows, it was evident that his business with them had been of a very agreeable kind indeed—to them. Richards drove to other places which I need not name; and when he got back home at last, he sank into his rocking-chair with a tired but happy sigh, and immediately lit his biggest pipe.
He was smiling to himself. “I’ve done it,” he said half aloud, “and my baby’s safe for a time. But if his rich old brother comes to the rescue, my game is spoiled. Poor Jack! I wonder what he is doing at this moment.”
On the night of the great ball, Sir Digby Auld was very much with Miss Gordon; and everybody said how well matched they were, which certainly was paying no compliment to Sir Digby. He gave her many dances, and he said many soft and pretty things to her, which caused her to bend down her painted face and pretend to blush.
In the course of the evening he forgathered with D’Orsay. D’Orsay lifted his brows and smiled.
“Getting on famously?” he said.
“I’ve been trying; but, D’Orsay, ’pon my life I can’t. And look you here: I may be a fool, I may be mad, but to-morrow forenoon I go to Keane’s and throw myself at Gerty’s feet. There! the die is cast.”