m, as long as he remained in that part
of the world; and even the duke himself had desired Fothergill to
manage it.

"He owes me an enormous sum of money," said the duke, who held all
Mr. Sowerby's title-deeds, "and I doubt whether the security will be
sufficient."

"Your grace will find the security quite sufficient," said Mr.
Fothergill; "but nevertheless it would be a good match."

"Very good," said the duke. And then it became Mr. Fothergill's duty
to see that Mr. Sowerby and Miss Dunstable became man and wife as
speedily as possible. Some of the party, who were more wide awake
than others, declared that he had made the offer; others, that he was
just going to do so; and one very knowing lady went so far at one
time as to say that he was making it at that moment. Bets also were
laid as to the lady's answer, as to the terms of the settlement, and
as to the period of the marriage--of all which poor Miss Dunstable of
course knew nothing. Mr. Sowerby, in spite of the publicity of his
proceedings, proceeded in the matter very well. He said little about
it to those who joked with him, but carried on the fight with what
best knowledge he had in such matters. But so much it is given to us
to declare with certainty, that he had not proposed on the evening
previous to the morning fixed for the departure of Mark Robarts.
During the last two days Mr. Sowerby's intimacy with Mark had grown
warmer and warmer. He had talked to the vicar confidentially about
the doings of these bigwigs now present at the castle, as though
there were no other guest there with whom he could speak in so free
a manner. He confided, it seemed, much more in Mark than in his
brother-in-law, Harold Smith, or in any of his brother members of
Parliament, and had altogether opened his heart to him in this affair
of his anticipated marriage. Now Mr. Sowerby was a man of mark in the
world, and all this flattered our young clergyman not a little. On
that evening before Robarts went away Sowerby asked him to come up
into his bedroom when the whole party was breaking up, and there got
him into an easy chair, while he, Sowerby, walked up and down the
room.

"You can hardly tell, my dear fellow," said he, "the state of nervous
anxiety in which this puts me."

"Why don't you ask her and have done with it? She seems to me to be
fond of your society."

"Ah, it is not that only; there are wheels within wheels:" and then
he walked once or twice up and down the r