orris,
of Charing Cross."

His Lordship winced a little at the thought of such a liberty, even for
a disguise, but he was now engaged with the note, and read on without
speaking.

"Nothing could be more courteous, certainly," said he, folding it up,
and laying it beside him on the table. "They invite me over to--what's
the name?--Castello, and promise me perfect liberty as regards my
time. 'To make the place my headquarters,' as he says. Who are these
Bramleighs? You know every one, Cutbill; who are they?"

"Bramleigh and Underwood are bankers, very old established firm. Old
Bramleigh was a brewer, at Slough; George the Third never would drink
any other stout than Bramleigh's. There was a large silver flagon,
called the 'King's Quaigh,' always brought out when his Majesty rode by,
and very vain old Bramleigh used to be of it, though I don't think it
figures now on the son's sideboard,--they have leased the brewery."

"Oh, they have leased the brewery, have they?"

"That they have; the present man got himself made Colonel of militia,
and meant to be a county member, and he might, too, if he had n't been
in too great a hurry about it; but county people won't stand being
carried by assault. Then they made other mistakes; tried it on with the
Liberals, in a shire where everything that called itself gentleman
was Tory; in fact, they plunged from one hole into another, till they
regularly swamped themselves; and as their house held a large mortgage
on these estates in Ireland, they paid off the other incumbrances and
have come to live here. I know the whole story, for it was an old friend
of mine who made the plans for restoring the mansion."

"I suspect that the men in your profession, Cutbill, know as much of the
private history of English families as any in the land?"

"More, my Lord; far more even than the solicitors, for people suspect
the solicitors, and they never suspect us. We are detectives in plain
clothes."

The pleasant chuckle with which Mr. Cutbill finished his speech was
not responded to by his Lordship, who felt that the other should have
accepted his compliment, without any attempt on his own part to "cap"
it.

"How long do you imagine I may be detained here, Cut-bill?" asked he,
after a pause.

"Let us say a week, my Lord, or ten days at furthest. We ought
certainly to see that new pit opened, before you leave."

"In that case I may as well accept this invitation. I can bear a little
boredom