CHAPTER I.
WHEREIN TWO ANXIOUS PARENTS HOLD A COLLOQUY.
"Is he rich, ma'am? is he rich? ey? what—what? is he rich?"
Sir Thomas was a rapid little man, and quite an epicure in the use of that luscious monosyllable.
"Is he rich, Lady Dillaway? ey? what?"
"Really, Thomas, you never give me time to answer," replied the quintescence of quietude, her ladyship; "and then it is perpetually the same question, and—"
"Well, ma'am, can...
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