I asked the cabman if it was too late.  The cabman replied that it was not; for his instructions were, if I happened to be out, he was to wait till I came home.  I felt very tired, and really wanted to go to bed.  I reached the hotel at a quarter before midnight.  I apologised for being so late, but Mr. Huttle said:  “Not at all; come and have a few oysters.”  I feel my heart beating as I write these words.  To be brief, Mr. Huttle said he had a rich American friend who wanted to do something large in our line of business, and that Mr. Franching had mentioned my name to him.  We talked over the matter.  If, by any happy chance, the result be successful, I can more than compensate my dear master for the loss of Mr. Crowbillon’s custom.  Mr. Huttle had previously said:  “The glorious ‘Fourth’ is a lucky day for America, and, as it has not yet struck twelve, we will celebrate it with a glass of the best wine to be had in the place, and drink good luck to our bit of business.”

I fervently hope it will bring good luck to us all.

It was two o’clock when I got home.  Although I was so tired, I could not sleep except for short intervals—­then only to dream.

I kept dreaming of Mr. Perkupp and Mr. Huttle.  The latter was in a lovely palace with a crown on.  Mr. Perkupp was waiting in the room.  Mr. Huttle kept taking off this crown and handing it to me, and calling me “President.”

He appeared to take no notice of Mr. Perkupp, and I kept asking Mr. Huttle to give the crown to my worthy master.  Mr. Huttle kept saying:  “No, this is the White House of Washington, and you must keep your crown, Mr. President.”

We all laughed long and very loudly, till I got parched, and then I woke up.  I fell asleep, only to dream the same thing over and over again.

CHAPTER THE LAST

One of the happiest days of my life.

July 10.—­The excitement and anxiety through which I have gone the last few days have been almost enough to turn my hair grey.  It is all but settled.  To-morrow the die will be cast.  I have written a long letter to Lupin—­feeling it my duty to do so,—­regarding his attention to Mrs. Posh, for they drove up to our house again last night.

July 11.—­I find my eyes filling with tears as I pen the note of my interview this morning with Mr. Perkupp.  Addressing me, he said:  “My faithful servant, I will not dwell on the important service you have done our firm.  You can never be sufficiently thanked.  Let us change the subject.  Do you like your house, and are you happy where you are?”

I replied:  “Yes, sir; I love my house and I love the neighbourhood, and could not bear to leave it.”

Mr. Perkupp, to my surprise, said:  “Mr. Pooter, I will purchase the freehold of that house, and present it to the most honest and most worthy man it has ever been my lot to meet.”