Alice, or the Mysteries — Book 03 by Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron, 1803-1873

"Well, Mr. Douce, whenever I have money to lay out, I must come and consult you."

"I shall be most happy at all times to--to advise your lordship; but it is not a thing I'm very fond of. There's Miss Cameron's fortune quite l-l-locked up,--three per cents and exchequer bills; why, it might have been a mil-mil-million by this ti-ti-time, if the good old gentleman--I beg pardon--old--old nobleman, my poor dear friend, had been now alive!"

"Indeed!" said Lumley, greedily, and pricking up his ears; "he was a good manager, my uncle!"

"None better, none better. I may say a genius for busi--hem-hem! Miss Cameron a young woman of bus-bus-business, my lord?"

"Not much of that, I fear. A million, did you say?"

"At least!--indeed, at least--money so scarce, speculation so sure in America; great people the Americans, rising people, gi-gi-giants --giants!"

"I am wasting your whole morning,--too bad in me," said Vargrave, as the clock struck five; "the Lords meet this evening,--important business; once more a thousand thanks to you; good day."

"A very good day to you, my lord; don't mention it; glad at any time to ser-ser-serve you," said Mr. Douce, fidgeting, curveting, and prancing round Lord Vargrave, as the latter walked through the outer office to the carriage.

"Not a step more; you will catch cold. Good-by--on Monday, then, seven o'clock. The House of Lords."

And Lumley threw himself back in his carriage in high spirits.

CHAPTER IV.