Cautious in his plans, Sleath was reluctant to give his address, but the price was soon agreed upon, and the money paid.
'I want a pair, and will order just such another,' said he. 'Perhaps you can give me Miss Ellinor Wellwood's address?'
'Certainly, sir. She lives very near this.'
'Near this! By Jove!'
He obtained the number and the street, and went off with the landscape, and with curious emotions of hope and evil blended exultantly in his heart.
'Paddington?' he muttered, as he walked off towards the Marble Arch. 'D—nme, what a game! Are they so reduced, or so ignorant, as to hang out there? Courage, Redmond, my boy, and that charming bit of muslin may be your own yet.'
Sleath had been told plainly enough, and sternly too, by Colville, at Lady Dunkeld's ball, that Mary and Ellinor were his cousins, who were ignorant of his identity; but the too-knowing baronet did not believe a word of his assertions, and, seeing the matter through the medium of his own evil mind, supposed the story was 'only a red herring drawn across the scent'—a dodge for purposes of the Guardsman's own—so he sought counsel of Mr. John Gaiters, while the latter prepared for him some brandy and seltzer-water.
'I am awfully spoony on a girl, Gaiters,' said he.
'That is nothing new, Sir Redmond; but it won't last.'
'It never does, I fear.'