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