Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. Most of the horses were dead, all but three stallions and two mares left among what was once a thriving stable. His business has thriven; legacies have unexpectedly dropped into his lap; and, to crown all, he has made a large fortune by a lucky speculation in South-Sea stock,—made it, too, where so many others have lost fortunes, your humble servant amongst the number—ha! ha! In a word, Sir, Mr.
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