"Excuse me now half a minute, I want to write a line," he added, as he hastily scribbled off a note.
A footman entered in answer to the bell.
"Take this to the office of the Messrs.

Prye, Lincoln's Inn Fields, and wait an answer," said Sir Lemuel, handing the folded note to the man, who bowed and retired.
"Prye must meet us here to-morrow morning to see to the marriage settlements.

And I must see to Prye! Even lawyers may be hurried if they be well paid for making haste!" concluded the banker, rubbing his hands.
"But now go and find Salome, and tell her it is all right! She has not got a stern father to ruffle the course of her true love, but a spooney old fellow who spreads out his hands over your heads and says: 'Bul-less you, my chee-ild-der-en!'" Lord Arondelle smiled at the dry banker's imitation of the heavy stage-father, but made no comment.
"Yes, go see Salome; and then go to the duke, your father, and acquaint him with the result of your proposal.

I take it for granted that you had his grace's authority for making it." "I had, sir.

He told me to be guided by my own judgment." "Well tell him all about the settlements as I have told them to you.
Agree to any amendment he may propose, for I will make it all right." "That is allowing a very large margin, indeed.