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'There go the three-quarters past!' muttered Newman Noggs, listeningto the chimes of some neighbouring church 'and my dinner time's two. Hedoes it on purpose. He makes a point of it. It's just like him.'

It was in his own little den of an office and on the top of his officialstool that Newman thus soliloquised; and the soliloquy referred, asNewman's grumbling soliloquies usually did, to Ralph Nickleby.

'I don't believe he ever had an appetite,' said Newman, 'except forpounds, shillings, and pence, and with them he's as greedy as a wolf. Ishould like to have him compelled to swallow one of every English coin.The penny would be an awkward morsel--but the crown--ha! ha!'

His good-humour being in some degree restored by the vision of RalphNickleby swallowing, perforce, a five-shilling piece, Newman slowlybrought forth from his desk one of those portable bottles, currentlyknown as pocket-pistols, and shaking the same close to his ear so as toproduce a rippling sound very cool and pleasant to listen to, sufferedhis features to relax, and took a gurgling drink, which relaxed themstill more. Replacing the cork, he smacked his lips twice or thrice withan air of great relish, and, the taste of the liquor having by this timeevaporated, recurred to his grievance again.

'Five minutes to three,' growled Newman; 'it can't want more by thistime; and I had my breakfast at eight o'clock, and SUCH a breakfast!and my right dinner-time two! And I might have a nice little bit of hotroast meat spoiling at home all this time--how does HE know I haven't?"Don't go till I come back," "Don't go till I come back," day after day.What do you always go out at my dinner-time for then--eh? Don't you knowit's nothing but aggravation--eh?'

These words, though uttered in a very loud key, were addressed tonothing but empty air. The recital of his wrongs, however, seemed tohave the effect of making Newman Noggs desperate; for he flattened hisold hat upon his head, and drawing on the everlasting gloves, declaredwith great vehemence, that come what might, he would go to dinner thatvery minute.

Carrying this resolution into instant effect, he had advanced as far asthe passage, when the sound of the latch-key in the street door causedhim to make a precipitate retreat into his own office again.

'Here he is,' growled Newman, 'and somebody with him. Now it'll be "Stoptill this gentleman's gone." But I won't. That's flat.'

So saying, Newman slipped into a tall empty closet which opened with twohalf doors, and shut himself up; intending to slip out directly Ralphwas safe inside his own room.

'Noggs!' cried Ralph, 'where is that fellow, Noggs?'

But not a word said Newman.

'The dog has gone to his dinner, though I told him not,' muttered Ralph,looking into the office, and pulling out his watch. 'Humph!' You hadbetter come in here, Gride. My man's out, and the sun is hot upon myroom. This is cool and in the shade, if you don't mind roughing it.'

'Not at all, Mr Nickleby, oh not at all! All places are alike to me,sir. Ah! very nice indeed. Oh! very nice!'

The parson who made this reply was a little old man, of about seventy orseventy-five years of age, of a very lean figure, much bent and slightlytwisted. He wore a grey coat with a very narrow collar, an old-fashionedwaistcoat of ribbed black silk, and such scanty trousers as displayedhis shrunken spindle-shanks in their full ugliness. The only articles ofdisplay or ornament in his dress were a steel watch-chain to whichwere attached some large gold seals; and a black ribbon into which, incompliance with an old fashion scarcely ever observed in these days,his grey hair was gathered behind. His nose and chin were sharp andprominent, his jaws had fallen inwards from loss of teeth, his facewas shrivelled and yellow, save where the cheeks were streaked withthe colour of a dry winter apple; and where his beard had been, therelingered yet a few grey tufts which seemed, like the ragged eyebrows, todenote the badness of the soil from which they sprung. The whole air andattitude of the form was one of stealthy cat-like obsequiousness;the whole expression of the face was concentrated in a wrinkled leer,compounded of cunning, lecherousness, slyness, and avarice.

Such was old Arthur Gride, in whose face there was not a wrinkle, inwhose dress there was not one spare fold or plait, but expressedthe most covetous and griping penury, and sufficiently indicated hisbelonging to that class of which Ralph Nickleby was a member. Such wasold Arthur Gride, as he sat in a low chair looking up into the face ofRalph Nickleby, who, lounging upon the tall office stool, with his armsupon his knees, looked down into his; a match for him on whatever errandhe had come.

'And how have you been?' said Gride, feigning great interest in Ralph'sstate of health. 'I haven't seen you for--oh! not for--'

'Not for a long time,' said Ralph, with a peculiar smile, importingthat he very well knew it was not on a mere visit of compliment that hisfriend had come. 'It was a narrow chance that you saw me now, for I hadonly just come up to the door as you turned the corner.'

'I am very lucky,' observed Gride.

'So men say,' replied Ralph, drily.

The older money-lender wagged his chin and smiled, but he originated nonew remark, and they sat for some little time without speaking. Each waslooking out to take the other at a disadvantage.

'Come, Gride,' said Ralph, at length; 'what's in the wind today?'

'Aha! you're a bold man, Mr Nickleby,' cried the other, apparently verymuch relieved by Ralph's leading the way to business. 'Oh dear, dear,what a bold man you are!'

'Why, you have a sleek and slinking way with you that makes me seem soby contrast,' returned Ralph. 'I don't know but that yours may answerbetter, but I want the patience for it.'

'You were born a genius, Mr Nickleby,' said old Arthur. 'Deep, deep,deep. Ah!'

'Deep enough,' retorted Ralph, 'to know that I shall need all the depthI have, when men like you begin to compliment. You know I have stood bywhen you fawned and flattered other people, and I remember pretty wellwhat THAT always led to.'

'Ha, ha, ha!' rejoined Arthur, rubbing his hands. 'So you do, so you do,no doubt. Not a man knows it better. Well, it's a pleasant thing now tothink that you remember old times. Oh dear!'

'Now then,' said Ralph, composedly; 'what's in the wind, I ask again?What is it?'

'See that now!' cried the other. 'He can't even keep from business whilewe're chatting over bygones. Oh dear, dear, what a man it is!'

'WHICH of the bygones do you want to revive?' said Ralph. 'One of them,I know, or you wouldn't talk about them.'

'He suspects even me!' cried old Arthur, holding up his hands. 'Evenme! Oh dear, even me. What a man it is! Ha, ha, ha! What a man it is! MrNickleby against all the world. There's nobody like him. A giant amongpigmies, a giant, a giant!'

Ralph looked at the old dog with a quiet smile as he chuckled on in thisstrain, and Newman Noggs in the closet felt his heart sink within him asthe prospect of dinner grew fainter and fainter.

'I must humour him though,' cried old Arthur; 'he must have his way--awilful man, as the Scotch say--well, well, they're a wise people, theScotch. He will talk about business, and won't give away his time fornothing. He's very right. Time is money, time is money.'

'He was one of us who made that saying, I should think,' said Ralph.'Time is money, and very good money too, to those who reckon interest byit. Time IS money! Yes, and time costs money; it's rather an expensivearticle to some people we could name, or I forget my trade.'

In rejoinder to this sally, old Arthur again raised his hands, againchuckled, and again ejaculated 'What a man it is!' which done, hedragged the low chair a little nearer to Ralph's high stool, and lookingupwards into his immovable face, said,

'What would you say to me, if I was to tell you that I was--that Iwas--going to be married?'

'I should tell you,' replied Ralph, looking coldly down upon him, 'thatfor some purpose of your own you told a lie, and that it wasn't thefirst time and wouldn't be the last; that I wasn't surprised and wasn'tto be taken in.'

'Then I tell you seriously that I am,' said old Arthur.

'And I tell you seriously,' rejoined Ralph, 'what I told you thisminute. Stay. Let me look at you. There's a liquorish devilry in yourface. What is this?'

'I wouldn't deceive YOU, you know,' whined Arthur Gride; 'I couldn't doit, I should be mad to try. I, I, to deceive Mr Nickleby! The pigmy toimpose upon the giant. I ask again--he, he, he!--what should you say tome if I was to tell you that I was going to be married?'

'To some old hag?' said Ralph.

'No, No,' cried Arthur, interrupting him, and rubbing his hands in anecstasy. 'Wrong, wrong again. Mr Nickleby for once at fault; out, quiteout! To a young and beautiful girl; fresh, lovely, bewitching, and notnineteen. Dark eyes, long eyelashes, ripe and ruddy lips that to look atis to long to kiss, beautiful clustering hair that one's fingers itch toplay with, such a waist as might make a man clasp the air involuntarily,thinking of twining his arm about it, little feet that tread so lightlythey hardly seem to walk upon the ground--to marry all this, sir,this--hey, hey!'

'This is something more than common drivelling,' said Ralph, afterlistening with a curled lip to the old sinner's raptures. 'The girl'sname?'

'Oh deep, deep! See now how deep that is!' exclaimed old Arthur. 'Heknows I want his help, he knows he can give it me, he knows it must allturn to his advantage, he sees the thing already. Her name--is therenobody within hearing?'

'Why, who the devil should there be?' retorted Ralph, testily.

'I didn't know but that perhaps somebody might be passing up or down thestairs,' said Arthur Gride, after looking out at the door and carefullyreclosing it; 'or but that your man might have come back and might havebeen listening outside. Clerks and servants have a trick of listening,and I should have been very uncomfortable if Mr Noggs--'

'Curse Mr Noggs,' said Ralph, sharply, 'and go on with what you have tosay.'

'Curse Mr Noggs, by all means,' rejoined old Arthur; 'I am sure I havenot the least objection to that. Her name is--'

'Well,' said Ralph, rendered very irritable by old Arthur's pausingagain 'what is it?'

'Madeline Bray.'

Whatever reasons there might have been--and Arthur Gride appeared tohave anticipated some--for the mention of this name producing an effectupon Ralph, or whatever effect it really did produce upon him, hepermitted none to manifest itself, but calmly repeated the name severaltimes, as if reflecting when and where he had heard it before.

'Bray,' said Ralph. 'Bray--there was young Bray of--no, he never had adaughter.'

'You remember Bray?' rejoined Arthur Gride.

'No,' said Ralph, looking vacantly at him.

'Not Walter Bray! The dashing man, who used his handsome wife so ill?'

'If you seek to recall any particular dashing man to my recollectionby such a trait as that,' said Ralph, shrugging his shoulders, 'I shallconfound him with nine-tenths of the dashing men I have ever known.'

'Tut, tut. That Bray who is now in the Rules of the Bench,' said oldArthur. 'You can't have forgotten Bray. Both of us did business withhim. Why, he owes you money!'

'Oh HIM!' rejoined Ralph. 'Ay, ay. Now you speak. Oh! It's HIS daughter,is it?'

Naturally as this was said, it was not said so naturally but that akindred spirit like old Arthur Gride might have discerned a design uponthe part of Ralph to lead him on to much more explicit statements andexplanations than he would have volunteered, or that Ralph could in alllikelihood have obtained by any other means. Old Arthur, however, was sointent upon his own designs, that he suffered himself to be overreached,and had no suspicion but that his good friend was in earnest.

'I knew you couldn't forget him, when you came to think for a moment,'he said.

'You were right,' answered Ralph. 'But old Arthur Gride and matrimonyis a most anomalous conjunction of words; old Arthur Gride and darkeyes and eyelashes, and lips that to look at is to long to kiss, andclustering hair that he wants to play with, and waists that he wants tospan, and little feet that don't tread upon anything--old Arthur Grideand such things as these is more monstrous still; but old Arthur Gridemarrying the daughter of a ruined "dashing man" in the Rules of theBench, is the most monstrous and incredible of all. Plainly, friendArthur Gride, if you want any help from me in this business (which ofcourse you do, or you would not be here), speak out, and to the purpose.And, above all, don't talk to me of its turning to my advantage, for Iknow it must turn to yours also, and to a good round tune too, or youwould have no finger in such a pie as this.'

There was enough acerbity and sarcasm not only in the matter of Ralph'sspeech, but in the tone of voice in which he uttered it, and the lookswith which he eked it out, to have fired even the ancient usurer'scold blood and flushed even his withered cheek. But he gave vent to nodemonstration of anger, contenting himself with exclaiming as before,'What a man it is!' and rolling his head from side to side, as if inunrestrained enjoyment of his freedom and drollery. Clearly observing,however, from the expression in Ralph's features, that he had bestcome to the point as speedily as might be, he composed himself formore serious business, and entered upon the pith and marrow of hisnegotiation.

First, he dwelt upon the fact that Madeline Bray was devoted to thesupport and maintenance, and was a slave to every wish, of her onlyparent, who had no other friend on earth; to which Ralph rejoined thathe had heard something of the kind before, and that if she had known alittle more of the world, she wouldn't have been such a fool.

Secondly, he enlarged upon the character of her father, arguing, thateven taking it for granted that he loved her in return with the utmostaffection of which he was capable, yet he loved himself a great dealbetter; which Ralph said it was quite unnecessary to say anything moreabout, as that was very natural, and probable enough.

And, thirdly, old Arthur premised that the girl was a delicate andbeautiful creature, and that he had really a hankering to have her forhis wife. To this Ralph deigned no other rejoinder than a harsh smile,and a glance at the shrivelled old creature before him, which were,however, sufficiently expressive.

'Now,' said Gride, 'for the little plan I have in my mind to bringthis about; because, I haven't offered myself even to the father yet, Ishould have told you. But that you have gathered already? Ah! oh dear,oh dear, what an edged tool you are!'

'Don't play with me then,' said Ralph impatiently. 'You know theproverb.'

'A reply always on the tip of his tongue!' cried old Arthur, raising hishands and eyes in admiration. 'He is always prepared! Oh dear, what ablessing to have such a ready wit, and so much ready money to back it!'Then, suddenly changing his tone, he went on: 'I have been backwards andforwards to Bray's lodgings several times within the last six months.It is just half a year since I first saw this delicate morsel, and, ohdear, what a delicate morsel it is! But that is neither here nor there.I am his detaining creditor for seventeen hundred pounds!'

'You talk as if you were the only detaining creditor,' said Ralph,pulling out his pocket-book. 'I am another for nine hundred andseventy-five pounds four and threepence.'

'The only other, Mr Nickleby,' said old Arthur, eagerly. 'The onlyother. Nobody else went to the expense of lodging a detainer, trustingto our holding him fast enough, I warrant you. We both fell into thesame snare; oh dear, what a pitfall it was; it almost ruined me! Andlent him our money upon bills, with only one name besides his own, whichto be sure everybody supposed to be a good one, and was as negotiableas money, but which turned out you know how. Just as we should have comeupon him, he died insolvent. Ah! it went very nigh to ruin me, that lossdid!'

'Go on with your scheme,' said Ralph. 'It's of no use raising the cry ofour trade just now; there's nobody to hear us!'

'It's always as well to talk that way,' returned old Arthur, with achuckle, 'whether there's anybody to hear us or not. Practice makesperfect, you know. Now, if I offer myself to Bray as his son-in-law,upon one simple condition that the moment I am fast married he shall bequietly released, and have an allowance to live just t'other side thewater like a gentleman (he can't live long, for I have asked hisdoctor, and he declares that his complaint is one of the Heart and itis impossible), and if all the advantages of this condition are properlystated and dwelt upon to him, do you think he could resist me? And ifhe could not resist ME, do you think his daughter could resist HIM?Shouldn't I have her Mrs Arthur Gride--pretty Mrs Arthur Gride--atit-bit--a dainty chick--shouldn't I have her Mrs Arthur Gride in aweek, a month, a day--any time I chose to name?'

'Go on,' said Ralph, nodding his head deliberately, and speaking ina tone whose studied coldness presented a strange contrast to therapturous squeak to which his friend had gradually mounted. 'Go on. Youdidn't come here to ask me that.'

'Oh dear, how you talk!' cried old Arthur, edging himself closer stillto Ralph. 'Of course I didn't, I don't pretend I did! I came to ask whatyou would take from me, if I prospered with the father, for this debt ofyours. Five shillings in the pound, six and-eightpence, ten shillings? IWOULD go as far as ten for such a friend as you, we have always been onsuch good terms, but you won't be so hard upon me as that, I know. Now,will you?'

'There's something more to be told,' said Ralph, as stony and immovableas ever.

'Yes, yes, there is, but you won't give me time,' returned Arthur Gride.'I want a backer in this matter; one who can talk, and urge, and press apoint, which you can do as no man can. I can't do that, for I am a poor,timid, nervous creature. Now, if you get a good composition for thisdebt, which you long ago gave up for lost, you'll stand my friend, andhelp me. Won't you?'

'There's something more,' said Ralph.

'No, no, indeed,' cried Arthur Gride.

'Yes, yes, indeed. I tell you yes,' said Ralph.

'Oh!' returned old Arthur feigning to be suddenly enlightened. 'You meansomething more, as concerns myself and my intention. Ay, surely, surely.Shall I mention that?'

'I think you had better,' rejoined Ralph, drily.

'I didn't like to trouble you with that, because I supposed yourinterest would cease with your own concern in the affair,' said ArthurGride. 'That's kind of you to ask. Oh dear, how very kind of you! Why,supposing I had a knowledge of some property--some little property--verylittle--to which this pretty chick was entitled; which nobody does orcan know of at this time, but which her husband could sweep into hispouch, if he knew as much as I do, would that account for--'

'For the whole proceeding,' rejoined Ralph, abruptly. 'Now, let me turnthis matter over, and consider what I ought to have if I should help youto success.'

'But don't be hard,' cried old Arthur, raising his hands with animploring gesture, and speaking, in a tremulous voice. 'Don't be toohard upon me. It's a very small property, it is indeed. Say the tenshillings, and we'll close the bargain. It's more than I ought to give,but you're so kind--shall we say the ten? Do now, do.'

Ralph took no notice of these supplications, but sat for three or fourminutes in a brown study, looking thoughtfully at the person from whomthey proceeded. After sufficient cogitation he broke silence, andit certainly could not be objected that he used any needlesscircumlocution, or failed to speak directly to the purpose.

'If you married this girl without me,' said Ralph, 'you must pay my debtin full, because you couldn't set her father free otherwise. It's plain,then, that I must have the whole amount, clear of all deduction orincumbrance, or I should lose from being honoured with your confidence,instead of gaining by it. That's the first article of the treaty. Forthe second, I shall stipulate that for my trouble in negotiation andpersuasion, and helping you to this fortune, I have five hundred pounds.That's very little, because you have the ripe lips, and the clusteringhair, and what not, all to yourself. For the third and last article, Irequire that you execute a bond to me, this day, binding yourself in thepayment of these two sums, before noon of the day of your marriage withMadeline Bray. You have told me I can urge and press a point. I pressthis one, and will take nothing less than these terms. Accept them ifyou like. If not, marry her without me if you can. I shall still get mydebt.'

To all entreaties, protestations, and offers of compromise between hisown proposals and those which Arthur Gride had first suggested, Ralphwas deaf as an adder. He would enter into no further discussion of thesubject, and while old Arthur dilated upon the enormity of his demandsand proposed modifications of them, approaching by degrees nearer andnearer to the terms he resisted, sat perfectly mute, looking with anair of quiet abstraction over the entries and papers in his pocket-book.Finding that it was impossible to make any impression upon his staunchfriend, Arthur Gride, who had prepared himself for some such resultbefore he came, consented with a heavy heart to the proposed treaty, andupon the spot filled up the bond required (Ralph kept such instrumentshandy), after exacting the condition that Mr Nickleby should accompanyhim to Bray's lodgings that very hour, and open the negotiation at once,should circumstances appear auspicious and favourable to their designs.

In pursuance of this last understanding the worthy gentlemen went outtogether shortly afterwards, and Newman Noggs emerged, bottle in hand,from the cupboard, out of the upper door of which, at the imminent riskof detection, he had more than once thrust his red nose when such partsof the subject were under discussion as interested him most.

'I have no appetite now,' said Newman, putting the flask in his pocket.'I've had MY dinner.'

Having delivered this observation in a very grievous and dolefultone, Newman reached the door in one long limp, and came back again inanother.

'I don't know who she may be, or what she may be,' he said: 'but I pityher with all my heart and soul; and I can't help her, nor can I any ofthe people against whom a hundred tricks, but none so vile as this, areplotted every day! Well, that adds to my pain, but not to theirs. Thething is no worse because I know it, and it tortures me as well asthem. Gride and Nickleby! Good pair for a curricle. Oh roguery! roguery!roguery!'

With these reflections, and a very hard knock on the crown of hisunfortunate hat at each repetition of the last word, Newman Noggs,whose brain was a little muddled by so much of the contents ofthe pocket-pistol as had found their way there during his recentconcealment, went forth to seek such consolation as might be derivablefrom the beef and greens of some cheap eating-house.

Meanwhile the two plotters had betaken themselves to the same housewhither Nicholas had repaired for the first time but a few morningsbefore, and having obtained access to Mr Bray, and found his daughterfrom home, had by a train of the most masterly approaches that Ralph'sutmost skill could frame, at length laid open the real object of theirvisit.

'There he sits, Mr Bray,' said Ralph, as the invalid, not yet recoveredfrom his surprise, reclined in his chair, looking alternately at himand Arthur Gride. 'What if he has had the ill-fortune to be one causeof your detention in this place? I have been another; men must live; youare too much a man of the world not to see that in its true light. Weoffer the best reparation in our power. Reparation! Here is an offerof marriage, that many a titled father would leap at, for his child. MrArthur Gride, with the fortune of a prince. Think what a haul it is!'

'My daughter, sir,' returned Bray, haughtily, 'as I have brought herup, would be a rich recompense for the largest fortune that a man couldbestow in exchange for her hand.'

'Precisely what I told you,' said the artful Ralph, turning to hisfriend, old Arthur. 'Precisely what made me consider the thing so fairand easy. There is no obligation on either side. You have money, andMiss Madeline has beauty and worth. She has youth, you have money.She has not money, you have not youth. Tit for tat, quits, a match ofHeaven's own making!'

'Matches are made in Heaven, they say,' added Arthur Gride, leeringhideously at the father-in-law he wanted. 'If we are married, it will bedestiny, according to that.'

'Then think, Mr Bray,' said Ralph, hastily substituting for thisargument considerations more nearly allied to earth, 'think what a stakeis involved in the acceptance or rejection of these proposals of myfriend.'

'How can I accept or reject,' interrupted Mr Bray, with an irritableconsciousness that it really rested with him to decide. 'It is for mydaughter to accept or reject; it is for my daughter. You know that.'

'True,' said Ralph, emphatically; 'but you have still the power toadvise; to state the reasons for and against; to hint a wish.'

'To hint a wish, sir!' returned the debtor, proud and mean by turns, andselfish at all times. 'I am her father, am I not? Why should I hint, andbeat about the bush? Do you suppose, like her mother's friends and myenemies--a curse upon them all!--that there is anything in what she hasdone for me but duty, sir, but duty? Or do you think that my having beenunfortunate is a sufficient reason why our relative positions shouldbe changed, and that she should command and I should obey? Hint a wish,too! Perhaps you think, because you see me in this place andscarcely able to leave this chair without assistance, that I am somebroken-spirited dependent creature, without the courage or power to dowhat I may think best for my own child. Still the power to hint a wish!I hope so!'

'Pardon me,' returned Ralph, who thoroughly knew his man, and had takenhis ground accordingly; 'you do not hear me out. I was about to say thatyour hinting a wish, even hinting a wish, would surely be equivalent tocommanding.'

'Why, of course it would,' retorted Mr Bray, in an exasperated tone. 'Ifyou don't happen to have heard of the time, sir, I tell you that therewas a time, when I carried every point in triumph against her mother'swhole family, although they had power and wealth on their side, by mywill alone.'

'Still,' rejoined Ralph, as mildly as his nature would allow him, 'youhave not heard me out. You are a man yet qualified to shine in society,with many years of life before you; that is, if you lived in freer air,and under brighter skies, and chose your own companions. Gaiety isyour element, you have shone in it before. Fashion and freedom for you.France, and an annuity that would support you there in luxury, wouldgive you a new lease of life, would transfer you to a new existence. Thetown rang with your expensive pleasures once, and you could blaze upon a new scene again, profiting by experience, and living a little atothers' cost, instead of letting others live at yours. What is there onthe reverse side of the picture? What is there? I don't know which isthe nearest churchyard, but a gravestone there, wherever it is, and adate, perhaps two years hence, perhaps twenty. That's all.'

Mr Bray rested his elbow on the arm of his chair, and shaded his facewith his hand.

'I speak plainly,' said Ralph, sitting down beside him, 'because I feelstrongly. It's my interest that you should marry your daughter to myfriend Gride, because then he sees me paid--in part, that is. I don'tdisguise it. I acknowledge it openly. But what interest have you inrecommending her to such a step? Keep that in view. She might object,remonstrate, shed tears, talk of his being too old, and plead that herlife would be rendered miserable. But what is it now?'

Several slight gestures on the part of the invalid showed that thesearguments were no more lost upon him, than the smallest iota of hisdemeanour was upon Ralph.

'What is it now, I say,' pursued the wily usurer, 'or what has it achance of being? If you died, indeed, the people you hate would make herhappy. But can you bear the thought of that?'

'No!' returned Bray, urged by a vindictive impulse he could not repress.

'I should imagine not, indeed!' said Ralph, quietly. 'If she profitsby anybody's death,' this was said in a lower tone, 'let it be by herhusband's. Don't let her have to look back to yours, as the event fromwhich to date a happier life. Where is the objection? Let me hear itstated. What is it? That her suitor is an old man? Why, how often do menof family and fortune, who haven't your excuse, but have all the meansand superfluities of life within their reach, how often do they marrytheir daughters to old men, or (worse still) to young men without headsor hearts, to tickle some idle vanity, strengthen some family interest,or secure some seat in Parliament! Judge for her, sir, judge for her.You must know best, and she will live to thank you.'

'Hush! hush!' cried Mr Bray, suddenly starting up, and covering Ralph'smouth with his trembling hand. 'I hear her at the door!'

There was a gleam of conscience in the shame and terror of this hastyaction, which, in one short moment, tore the thin covering of sophistryfrom the cruel design, and laid it bare in all its meanness andheartless deformity. The father fell into his chair pale and trembling;Arthur Gride plucked and fumbled at his hat, and durst not raise hiseyes from the floor; even Ralph crouched for the moment like a beatenhound, cowed by the presence of one young innocent girl!

The effect was almost as brief as sudden. Ralph was the first to recoverhimself, and observing Madeline's looks of alarm, entreated the poorgirl to be composed, assuring her that there was no cause for fear.

'A sudden spasm,' said Ralph, glancing at Mr Bray. 'He is quite wellnow.'

It might have moved a very hard and worldly heart to see the young andbeautiful creature, whose certain misery they had been contriving buta minute before, throw her arms about her father's neck, and pour forthwords of tender sympathy and love, the sweetest a father's ear can know,or child's lips form. But Ralph looked coldly on; and Arthur Gride,whose bleared eyes gloated only over the outward beauties, and wereblind to the spirit which reigned within, evinced--a fantastic kind ofwarmth certainly, but not exactly that kind of warmth of feeling whichthe contemplation of virtue usually inspires.

'Madeline,' said her father, gently disengaging himself, 'it wasnothing.'

'But you had that spasm yesterday, and it is terrible to see you in suchpain. Can I do nothing for you?'

'Nothing just now. Here are two gentlemen, Madeline, one of whom youhave seen before. She used to say,' added Mr Bray, addressing ArthurGride, 'that the sight of you always made me worse. That was natural,knowing what she did, and only what she did, of our connection and itsresults. Well, well. Perhaps she may change her mind on that point;girls have leave to change their minds, you know. You are very tired, mydear.'

'I am not, indeed.'

'Indeed you are. You do too much.'

'I wish I could do more.'

'I know you do, but you overtask your strength. This wretched life, mylove, of daily labour and fatigue, is more than you can bear, I am sureit is. Poor Madeline!'

With these and many more kind words, Mr Bray drew his daughter to himand kissed her cheek affectionately. Ralph, watching him sharply andclosely in the meantime, made his way towards the door, and signed toGride to follow him.

'You will communicate with us again?' said Ralph.

'Yes, yes,' returned Mr Bray, hastily thrusting his daughter aside. 'Ina week. Give me a week.'

'One week,' said Ralph, turning to his companion, 'from today.Good-morning. Miss Madeline, I kiss your hand.'

'We will shake hands, Gride,' said Mr Bray, extending his, as old Arthurbowed. 'You mean well, no doubt. I an bound to say so now. If I owed youmoney, that was not your fault. Madeline, my love, your hand here.'

'Oh dear! If the young lady would condescent! Only the tips of herfingers,' said Arthur, hesitating and half retreating.

Madeline shrunk involuntarily from the goblin figure, but she placed thetips of her fingers in his hand and instantly withdrew them. After anineffectual clutch, intended to detain and carry them to his lips,old Arthur gave his own fingers a mumbling kiss, and with many amorousdistortions of visage went in pursuit of his friend, who was by thistime in the street.

'What does he say, what does he say? What does the giant say to thepigmy?' inquired Arthur Gride, hobbling up to Ralph.

'What does the pigmy say to the giant?' rejoined Ralph, elevating hiseyebrows and looking down upon his questioner.

'He doesn't know what to say,' replied Arthur Gride. 'He hopes andfears. But is she not a dainty morsel?'

'I have no great taste for beauty,' growled Ralph.

'But I have,' rejoined Arthur, rubbing his hands. 'Oh dear! How handsomeher eyes looked when she was stooping over him! Such long lashes, suchdelicate fringe! She--she--looked at me so soft.'

'Not over-lovingly, I think,' said Ralph. 'Did she?'

'No, you think not?' replied old Arthur. 'But don't you think it can bebrought about? Don't you think it can?'

Ralph looked at him with a contemptuous frown, and replied with a sneer,and between his teeth:

'Did you mark his telling her she was tired and did too much, andovertasked her strength?'

'Ay, ay. What of it?'

'When do you think he ever told her that before? The life is more thanshe can bear. Yes, yes. He'll change it for her.'

'D'ye think it's done?' inquired old Arthur, peering into hiscompanion's face with half-closed eyes.

'I am sure it's done,' said Ralph. 'He is trying to deceive himself,even before our eyes, already. He is making believe that he thinksof her good and not his own. He is acting a virtuous part, and soconsiderate and affectionate, sir, that the daughter scarcely knew him.I saw a tear of surprise in her eye. There'll be a few more tears ofsurprise there before long, though of a different kind. Oh! we may waitwith confidence for this day week.'