Armadale

consent to having her privately watched as long as she remains in this neighborhood?'

For the second time Allan shook his head.

'Is that your final resolution, sir?'

'It is, Mr. Pedgift; but I am much obliged to you for your advice, all the same.'

Pedgift Senior rose in a state of gentle resignation, and took up his hat 'Good-evening, sir,' he said, and made sorrowfully for the door. Allan rose on his side, innocently supposing that the interview was at an end. Persons better acquainted with the diplomatic habits of his legal adviser would have recommended him to keep his seat. The time was ripe for 'Pedgift's postscript,' and the lawyer's indicative snuff-box was at that moment in one of his hands, as he opened the door with the other.

'Good-evening,' said Allan.

Pedgift Senior opened the door, stopped, considered, closed the door again, came back mysteriously with his pinch of snuff in suspense between his box and his nose, and repeating his invariable formula, 'By-the-by, there's a point occurs to me,' quietly resumed possession of his empty chair.

Allan, wondering, took the seat, in his turn, which he had just left. Lawyer and client looked at each other once more, and the inexhaustible interview began again.

VI. PEDGIFT'S POSTSCRIPT.

'I mentioned that a point had occurred to me, sir,' remarked Pedgift Senior.

'You did,' said Allan.

'Would you like to hear what it is, Mr. Armadale?'

'If you please,' said Allan.

'With all my heart, sir! This is the point. I attach considerable importance—if nothing else can be done—to having Miss Gwilt privately looked after, as long as she stops at Thorpe Ambrose. It struck me just now at the door, Mr. Armadale, that what you are not willing to do for your own security, you might be willing to do for the security of another person.'

'What other person?' inquired Allan.

'A young lady who is a near neighbor of yours, sir. Shall I mention the name in confidence? Miss Milroy.'

Allan started, and changed color.

'Miss Milroy!' he repeated. 'Can she be concerned in this miserable business? I hope not, Mr. Pedgift; I sincerely hope not.'

'I paid a visit, in your interests, sir, at the cottage this morning,' proceeded Pedgift Senior. 'You shall hear what happened there, and judge for yourself. Major Milroy has been expressing his opinion of you pretty freely; and I thought it highly desirable to give him a caution. It's always the way with those quiet addle-headed men: when they do once wake up, there's no reasoning with their obstinacy, and no quieting their violence. Well, sir, this morning I went to the cottage. The major and Miss Neelie were both in the parlor—miss not looking so pretty as usual; pale, I thought, pale, and worn, and anxious. Up jumps the addle-headed major (I wouldn't give that, Mr. Armadale, for the brains of a man who can occupy himself for half his lifetime in making a clock!)—up jumps the addle-headed major, in the loftiest manner, and actually tries to look me down. Ha! ha! the idea of anybody looking me down, at my time of life. I behaved like a Christian; I nodded kindly to old What's-o'clock 'Fine morning, major,' says I. 'Have you any business with me?' says he. 'Just a word,' says I. Miss Neelie, like the sensible girl she is, gets up to leave the room; and what does her ridiculous father do? He stops her. 'You needn't go, my dear, I have nothing to say to Mr. Pedgift,' says this old military idiot, and turns my way, and tries to look me down again. 'You are Mr. Armadale's lawyer,' says he; 'if you come on any business relating to Mr. Armadale, I refer you to my solicitor.' (His solicitor is Darch; and Darch has had enough of me in business, I can tell you!) 'My errand here, major, does certainly relate to Mr. Armadale,' says I; 'but it doesn't concern your lawyer—at any rate, just yet. I wish to caution you to suspend your opinion of my client, or, if you won't do that, to be careful how you express it in public. I warn you that our turn is to come, and that you are not at the end yet of this scandal about Miss Gwilt.' It struck me as likely that he would lose his temper when he found himself tackled in that way, and he amply fulfilled my expectations. He was quite violent in his language—the poor weak creature—actually violent with me! I behaved like a Christian again; I nodded kindly, and wished him good-morning. When I looked round to wish Miss Neelie good- morning, too, she was gone. You seem restless, Mr. Armadale,' remarked Pedgift Senior, as Allan, feeling the sting of old recollections, suddenly started out of his chair, and began pacing up and down the room. 'I won't try your patience much longer, sir; I am coming to the point.'

'I beg your pardon, Mr. Pedgift,' said Allan, returning to his seat, and trying to look composedly at the lawyer through the intervening image of Neelie which the lawyer had called up.

'Well, sir, I left the cottage,' resumed Pedgift Senior. 'Just as I turned the corner from the garden into the park, whom should I stumble on but Miss Neelie herself, evidently on the lookout for me. 'I want to speak to you for one moment, Mr. Pedgift!' says she. 'Does Mr. Armadale think me mixed up in this matter?' She was violently agitated—tears in her eyes, sir, of the sort which my legal experience has not accustomed me to see. I quite forgot myself; I actually gave her my arm, and led her away gently among the trees. (A nice position to find me in, if any of the scandal-mongers of the town had happened to be walking in that direction!) 'My dear Miss Milroy,' says I, 'why should Mr. Armadale think you mixed up in it?''

'You ought to have told her at once that I thought nothing of the kind!' exclaimed Allan, indignantly. 'Why did you leave her a moment in doubt about it?'

'Because I am a lawyer, Mr. Armadale,' rejoined Pedgift Senior, dryly. 'Even in moments of sentiment, under convenient trees, with a pretty girl on my arm, I can't entirely divest myself of my professional caution. Don't look distressed, sir, pray! I set things right in due course of time. Before I left Miss Milroy, I told her, in the plainest terms, no such idea had ever entered your head.'

'Did she seem relieved?' asked Allan.

'She was able to dispense with the use of my arm, sir,' replied old Pedgift, as dryly as ever, 'and to pledge me to inviolable secrecy on the subject of our interview. She was particularly desirous that you should hear nothing about it. If you are at all anxious on your side to know why I am