This conversation led her to infer that her old friend was both a treacherous and dishonest man, and entirely unworthy to be trusted in any capacity.  Seemingly the conversation was not meant for her ears, but Mr. Fledgeby had planned that she should hear it, and that it should have the very effect upon her which it had.  This was Mr. Fledgeby’s retort upon Miss Wren for the over-sharpness with which she always treated him, and also a pleasant instance of his humor as regarded the old Jew.  “He has got a bad name as an old Jew, and he is paid for the use of it, and I’ll have my money’s worth out of him.”  Thus ran Mr. Fledgeby’s reflections on the subject, and Miss Wren sat listening to the conversation with a fallen countenance, until Mr. Riah came in, when Mr. Fledgeby led the old man to make statements which seemed further to emphasize his hard-heartedness and dishonesty.

Then Mr. Riah filled Miss Wren’s little basket with such scraps as she could buy, saying: 

“There, my Cinderella dear, the basket’s full now.  Bless you, and get you gone!”

“Don’t call me your Cinderella dear,” returned Miss Wren, “Oh, you cruel godmother!”

She shook that emphatic little forefinger of hers in his face at parting, and as he did not attempt to vindicate himself, went on her way, to return no more to Saint Mary Axe; chance having disclosed to her (as she supposed) the flinty and hypocritical character of Mr. Riah.  She often moralized over her work on the tricks and the manners of that venerable cheat, but made her little purchases elsewhere, and lived a secluded life.  But during several interviews which she chanced to have later with Mr. Fledgeby, the clever little creature made him by his own words, disclose his system of treachery and trickery, and prove that the aged Jew had been screening his employer at his own expense.  Thereupon Miss Jenny lost no time in once again proceeding to the place of business of Pubsey and Co., where she found the old man sitting at his desk.  In less time than it takes to tell it, she had folded her arms about his neck, and kissed him, imploring his forgiveness for her lack of faith in him, adding:  “It did look bad, now, didn’t it?”

“It looked so bad, Jenny,” responded the old man with gravity, “that I was hateful in mine own eyes.  I perceived that the obligation was upon me to leave this service.  Whereupon I indited a letter to my master to that effect, but he held me to certain months of servitude, which were his lawful term of notice.  They expire to-morrow.  Upon their expiration—­not before—­I had meant to set myself right with my Cinderella.”

While they were thus conversing, the aged Jew received an angry communication from Mr. Fledgeby, releasing Mr. Riah at once from his service, to the great satisfaction of the old man, who then got his few goods together in a black bag, closed the shutters, pulled down the office blind, and issued forth upon the steps.  There, while Miss Jenny held the bag, the old man locked the house door, and handed the key over to the messenger who had brought the note of dismissal.