Dorothy laughed, and looked incredulously at the plain, matter-of-fact lawyer.
"How can I do that, sir? I have no money to give you."
"Not at present, my dear; but you can bestow upon me more than the worth of money, this dear little white hand!"
"Oh!" said Dorothy, snatching her hand from him, before he could convey it to his lips, and without adopting the affectation of pretending not to understand his meaning, "I cannot do that, for it is given away already."
The lawyer's fine castle of a moment's building evaporated slowly into air, as he asked in a disconcerted tone:
"To whom?"
"A gentleman you know quite well. The Reverend Gerard Fitzmorris. It was he that directed me to you."
"Oh, I see. The gentleman that was here a few days ago, Lord Wilton's cousin, and successor to the titles and estates. That is, in case the Earl does not marry again. Young lady, I offer you my sincere congratulations, on your prospect of becoming a countess, and I hope," he continued, with great emphasis, "that you will forgive me, for wishing to secure the affections of such a charming young lady."
"Oh, certainly. You are not much to be pitied, on so short an acquaintance," and Dorothy laughed merrily. "Had not the fortune something to do with it?" and she looked archly up in his face.
"No, upon my honour, I was struck with your appearance before you told me who you were. But really, Miss Chance, or Knight, or whatever we can prove your name to be, we must not lose sight of this fortune, and if you will pay me say five thousand pounds provided I am able to establish your claims, will you empower me to take the necessary steps?"