"
"But his name doesn't appear on the sign, I infer."
"No, I think not. Then you are not in business,
Mr. Stuyvesant?"
"No; I inherited an income from my father.
It isn't as large as I could wish, and I have
abstained from marrying because I could not
maintain the mode of living to which I have
been accustomed."
"You should marry a rich girl."
"True! I may do so, since your lordship
recommends it. In fact, I have in view a
young lady whose father was once lord mayor
(I beg pardon, mayor) of New York.
Her father is worth a million."
"Pounds?"
"Well, no, dollars. I should have said two
hundred thousand pounds."
"If the girl is willing, it may be a good plan."
"Thank you, my lord. Your advice is very kind."
"The young man seems on very good terms
with Lord Bedford," said Carl's companion,
whose name was Atwood, with a shade of envy
in his voice.
"Yes," said Carl.
"I wish he would introduce me," went on Mr. Atwood.
"I should prefer the introduction of a different man," said Carl.
"Why? He seems to move in good society."
"Without belonging to it."
"Then you know him?"
"Better than I wish I did."
Atwood looked curious.
"I will explain later," said Carl;
"now I must go in to breakfast."
"I will go with you."
Though Stuyvesant had glanced at Carl, he
did not appear to recognize him, partly, no
doubt, because he had no expectation of meeting
the boy he had robbed, at Niagara. Besides,
his time and attention were so much
taken up by his aristocratic acquaintance that
he had little notice for anyone else.
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