ridge. Can
it have been this Frederic Lethbridge, and if so, had it anything to do
with money matters?

I haven't mentioned my doubts to Dick, because he really is idiotically
in love with the girl, and is capable of foolishness. I intend to let
him go on as he is going for the present, as he can do himself no harm,
and can do me a great deal of good, by keeping his darling out of my way
and Sir Lionel's thoughts. But of course, he mustn't be allowed to marry
her if she has nothing of her own. Sir Lionel is rich, but not rich
enough to make his ward rich enough for Dick, and keep plenty for his
wife--when he gets one--if she be anything like _me_.

Your dear hostess, who would by this time be my hostess if I weren't
otherwise engaged, knows everything and everybody. Not only that, she
has done both for a considerable term of years. You remember the joke
about her being torn between the desire not to exceed the age of
forty-five and yet to boast a friendship with Lord Beaconsfield? Well,
she can have known Frederic Lethbridge, and all about him, without being
a day over forty, as that is Sir Lionel's age, and Mrs. Lethbridge was a
distant relative of his.

Tell Lady MacRae that. Say that the Frederic Lethbridge you are
inquiring about married a Miss de Nesville, and that there is a daughter
in existence, a girl of nineteen. If Lady Mac doesn't know anything, get
her to ask her friends; but do hurry up for Dick's sake, there's a dear,
otherwise I shan't be able to pull the strings as you would like me to;
and already my sweet nerves are jangled, out of tune. Dear Lady Mac is
so adorably frank, when she has something disagreeable to say, that
you'll have no difficulty in ferreting out the truth--if it's anything
nasty. For most reasons I hope it isn't, as a rich girl would be a
valuable bird in the hand for Dick; and I am on the spot to see his
affairs as well as my own through, whatever happens.

For my part, if Sir Lionel weren't up to such a fatiguingly high level
of intelligence, I believe I could fall in love with him. He may be
descended from King Arthur, but he looks more like Lancelot, and I fancy
might make love rather nicely, once he let himself go. Although it's
long since he did any soldiering, he shows that he _was_ a soldier,
born, not made. He has improved, if anything, since we knew him in
India, but I remember you used to be quite afraid of having to talk to
him then, and preferred Colonel O'Hagan, who