The Honourable George had discussed the matter with the Honourable John in a properly fraternal manner.  It may be that John had also an eye to the heiress; but, if so, he had ceded his views to his brother’s superior claims; for it came about that they understood each other very well, and John favoured George with salutary advice on the occasion.

‘If it is to be done at all, it should be done very sharp,’ said John.

‘As sharp as you like,’ said George.  ’I’m not the fellow to be studying three months in what attitude I’ll fall at a girl’s feet.’

’No:  and when you are there you mustn’t take three months more to study how you’ll get up again.  If you do it at all, you must do it sharp,’ repeated John, putting great stress on his advice.

’I have said a few soft words to her already, and she didn’t seem to take them badly,’ said George.

‘She’s no chicken, you know,’ remarked John; ’and with a woman like that, beating about the bush never does any good.  The chances are she won’t have you—­that’s of course; plums like that don’t fall into a man’s mouth merely for shaking the tree.  But it’s possible she may; and if she will, she’s as likely to take you to-day as this day six months.  If I were you I’d write her a letter.’

‘Write her a letter—­eh?’ said George, who did not altogether dislike the advice, for it seemed to take from his shoulders the burden of preparing a spoken address.  Though he was so glib in speaking about the farmers’ daughters, he felt that he should have some little difficulty in making known his passion to Miss Dunstable, by word of mouth.

’Yes; write a letter.  If she’ll take you at all, she’ll take you that way; half the matches going are made up by writing letters.  Write her a letter and get it put on her dressing-table.’  George said that he would, and so he did.

George spoke quite truly when he hinted that he had said a few soft things to Miss Dunstable.  Miss Dunstable, however, was accustomed to hear soft things.  She had been carried much about in society among fashionable people since, on the settlement of her father’s will, she had been pronounced heiress to all the ointment of Lebanon; and many men had made calculations respecting her similar to those which were now animating the brain of the Honourable George de Courcy.  She was already quite accustomed to being a target at which spendthrifts and the needy rich might shoot their arrows:  accustomed to being shot at, and tolerably accustomed to protect herself without making scenes in the world, or rejecting the advantageous establishments offered to her with any loud expressions of disdain.  The Honourable George, therefore, had been permitted to say soft things very much as a matter of course.

And very little more outward fracas arose from the correspondence which followed than had arisen from the soft things so said.  George wrote the letter, and had it duly conveyed to Miss Dunstable’s bed-chamber.  Miss Dunstable duly received it, and had her answer conveyed back discreetly to George’s hands.  The correspondence ran as follows:—­