handkerchief.

"You are, I believe, unacquainted with your cousin, Sir Maurice
Vibart?" he inquired.

"I have never seen him," said I; "all my life has been passed
either at school or the university, but I have frequently heard
mention of him, nevertheless."

"Egad!" cried Sir Richard, "who hasn't heard of Buck Vibart--beat
Ted Jarraway of Swansea in five rounds--drove coach and four down
Whitehall--on sidewalk--ran away with a French marquise while but
a boy of twenty, and shot her husband into the bargain. Devilish
celebrated figure in 'sporting circles,' friend of the Prince
Regent--"

"So I understand," said I.

"Altogether as complete a young blackguard as ever swaggered down
St. James's." Having said which, Sir Richard crossed his legs
and inhaled a pinch of snuff.

"Twenty thousand pounds is a very handsome sum," remarked Mr.
Grainger ponderously and as though more with the intention of
saying something rather than remain silent just then.

"Indeed it is," said I, "and might help a man to the devil as
comfortably as need be, but--"

"Though," pursued Mr. Grainger, "much below his expectations and