CHAPTER XIX. THE TARN IN THE PARK. Next morning Stanley Lake, at breakfast with the lawyer, said — "A pretty room this is. That bow window is worth all the pictures in Brandon. To my eye there is no scenery bo sweet as this, at least to breakfast by. These undula- tions, and all that splendid timber, and the glorious ruins on that hillock over there! How many beautiful ruins that picturesque old fellow Cromwell has left us." "You don't eat your breakfast, though," said the at- torney, with a charming smile of reproach. "Ah, thank you; I'm a bad breakfaster; that is," said Stanley, recollecting that he had made some very credit- able meals at the same table, "when I smoke so late as I did last night." "You drove Mr. Wylder to Dollington?" "Yes; he's gone to town, he says — yes, the mail train — to get some diamonds for Miss Brandon — a present — that ought to have come the day before yesterday. He says they'll never have them in time unless he goes and blows them up. Are you in his secrets at all?" "Something in his confidence, I should hope," said Mr. Larkin, in rather a lofty and reserved way. "Oh, yes, of course, in serious matters; but I meant other things. You know he has been a bit wiM; and ladies, you know, ladies will be troublesome sometimes; and