“And it ought to come up,” said Edith, indignantly.
“We must, as you say, have the best counsel in England. An ordinary man might ruin all. You must get the best lawyer in London. And now I would not advise you to choose the most eminent one there, for fear lest the multitude of his engagements might prevent him from giving to your case the attention which it requires. You want some one who will give his whole soul to the case—some shrewd, deep, wily, crafty man, who understands thoroughly all the ins and outs of law, and can circumvent Wiggins in every way.”
“But I don't like these wily lawyers,” said Edith, doubtfully. “I prefer honorable men.”
“Yes, certainly, as friends, no doubt you do; but you are not now seeking for a friend. You are on the look-out for a servant, or, rather, for one who can fight your battle best, and deal the best and surest blows upon Wiggins.”
“Well, I'm sure I don't know,” said Edith, doubtfully.
“Now I'll tell you what I'll do, if you'll consent,” said Little Dudleigh. “I'll go to London and seek out the right man myself. There is no use in writing letters. I must go and explain the thing personally.”
“Lieutenant Dudleigh,” said Edith, in deep emotion, “I do not know what to say. You really overwhelm me with kindnesses. I can only say that you have earned my life-long gratitude.”
Little Dudleigh shook his head deprecatingly.
“Miss Dalton,” said he, in a tone of respectful devotion, “the favor is all yours, and the pleasure is all mine. Believe me, I feel happy beyond expression at being able to do any thing for you.”
And after some further conversation, Little Dudleigh took his leave.