I thank you,’ Sir George answered.  ’I do not think that there is anything more to be done.  I have made my offer.’

‘Oh!’ the lawyer cried.

‘And it has been accepted,’ Soane continued, smiling at his dismay.  ’I believe that you have been a good friend to your client, Mr. Fishwick.  I shall be obliged if you will allow her to remain under your roof until to-morrow, when she has consented to honour me by becoming my wife.’

‘Your wife?’ Mr. Fishwick ejaculated, his face a picture of surprise.  ‘To-morrow?’

‘I brought a licence with me,’ Sir George answered.  ’I am now on my way to secure the services of a clergyman.’

The tears stood in Mr. Fishwick’s eyes, and his voice shook.  ’I felicitate you, sir,’ he said, taking off his hat.  ’God bless you, sir.  Sir George, you are a very noble gentleman!’ And then, remembering himself, he hastened to beg the gentleman’s pardon for the liberty he had taken.

Sir George nodded kindly.  ’There is a letter for you in the house, Mr. Fishwick,’ he said, ’which I was asked to convey to you.  For the present, good-day.’

Mr. Fishwick stood and watched him go with eyes wide with astonishment; nor was it until he had passed from sight that the lawyer turned and went into his house.  On a bench in the passage he found a letter.  It was formally directed after the fashion of those days ’To Mr. Peter Fishwick, Attorney at Law, at Wallingford in Berkshire, by favour of Sir George Soane of Estcombe, Baronet.’

’Lord save us, ‘tis an honour,’ the attorney muttered.  ‘What is it?’ and with shaking hands he cut the thread that confined the packet.  The letter, penned by Dr. Addington, was to this effect: 

’Sir,—­I am directed by the Right Honourable the Earl of Chatham, Lord Keeper of His Majesty’s Privy Seal, to convey to you his lordship’s approbation of the conduct displayed by you in a late transaction.  His lordship, acknowledging no higher claim to employment than probity, nor any more important duty in the disposition of patronage than the reward of integrity, desires me to intimate that the office of Clerk of the Leases in the Forest of Dean, which is vacant and has been placed at his command, is open for your acceptance.  He is informed that the emoluments of the office arising from fees amount in good years to five hundred pounds, and in bad years seldom fall below four hundred.

His lordship has made me the channel of this communication, that I may take the opportunity of expressing my regret that a misunderstanding at one time arose between us.  Accept, sir, this friendly assurance of a change of sentiment, and allow me to

     ’Have the honour to be, sir,
          ’Your obedient servant,
               ‘J.  Addington.’

’Clerk of the Leases—­in the Forest of Dean—­have been known in bad years—­to fall to four hundred!’ Mr. Fishwick ejaculated, his eyes like saucers.  ’Oh, Lord, I am dreaming!  I must be dreaming!  If I don’t get my cravat untied, I shall have a lit!  Four hundred in bad years!  It’s a—­oh, it’s incredible!  They’ll not believe it!  I vow they’ll not believe it!’