"Just so, ma'am; and a fitting companion for Mr. Victor Carrington likewise."
"Have you found out anything about him?" cried Lady Eversleigh, eagerly.
"No, ma'am, I haven't. At least, nothing in my way. I've tried his neighbours, and his tradespeople also, in the character of a postman, which is respectable, and calculated to inspire confidence. But out of his tradespeople I can get nothing more than the fact that he is a remarkably praiseworthy young man, who pays his debts regular, and is the very best of sons to a highly-respectable mother. There's nothing much in that, you know, ma'am."
"Hypocrite!" murmured Lady Eversleigh. "A hypocrite so skilled in the vile arts of hypocrisy that he will contrive to have the world always on his side. And this is all your utmost address has been able to achieve?"
"All at present, ma'am; but I live in hopes. And now I've got a bit of news about the baronet, which I think will astonish you. I've been improving my acquaintance with the young person employed as housemaid in Villiers Street for the last fortnight, and I find from her that my baronet is on very friendly terms with his first cousin, Mr. Dale, of the Temple."
"Indeed!" exclaimed Honoria. "These two men are the last between whom I should have imagined a friendship impossible."
"Yes, ma'am; but so it is, notwithstanding. Mr. Douglas Dale, barrister-at-law, dined with his cousin, Sir Reginald, twice last week; and on each occasion the two gentlemen left Villiers Street together in a hack cab, between eight and nine o'clock. My friend, the housemaid, happened to hear the address given to the cabmen on both occasions; and on both occasions the address was Hilton House, Fulham."
"Douglas Dale a gambler!" cried Honoria; "the companion of his infamous cousin! That is indeed ruin."
"Well, certainly, ma'am, it does not seem a very lively prospect for my friend, D. D.," answered Mr. Larkspur, with irrepressible flippancy.
"Do you know any more respecting this acquaintance?" asked Honoria.