This was the substance of Gates’s speech; and Mr. Brough shook his hand and—­took the 5_l_.  “Gates,” said he, “that 5_l_. note shall be the best outlay you ever made in your life!” and I have no doubt it was,—­but it was in heaven that poor old Gates was to get the interest of his little mite.

Nor was this the only instance.  Mrs. Brough’s sister, Miss Dough, who had been on bad terms with the Director almost ever since he had risen to be a great man, came to the office with a power of attorney, and said, “John, Isabella has been with me this morning, and says you want money, and I have brought you my 4,000_l_.; it is all I have, John, and pray God it may do you good—­you and my dear sister, who was the best sister in the world to me—­till—­till a little time ago.”

And she laid down the paper:  I was called up to witness it, and Brough, with tears in his eyes, told me her words; for he could trust me, he said.  And thus it was that I came to be present at Gates’s interview with his master, which took place only an hour afterwards.  Brave Mrs. Brough! how she was working for her husband!  Good woman, and kind! but you had a true heart, and merited a better fate!  Though wherefore say so?  The woman, to this day, thinks her husband an angel, and loves him a thousand times better for his misfortunes.

On Saturday, Alderman Pash’s solicitor was paid by me across the counter, as I said.  “Never mind your aunt’s money, Titmarsh my boy,” said Brough:  “never mind her having resumed her shares.  You are a true honest fellow; you have never abused me like that pack of curs downstairs, and I’ll make your fortune yet!”

* * * * *

The next week, as I was sitting with my wife, with Mr. Smithers, and with Mrs. Hoggarty, taking our tea comfortably, a knock was heard at the door, and a gentleman desired to speak to me in the parlour.  It was Mr. Aminadab of Chancery Lane, who arrested me as a shareholder of the Independent West Diddlesex Association, at the suit of Von Stiltz of Clifford Street, tailor and draper.

I called down Smithers, and told him for Heaven’s sake not to tell Mary.

“Where is Brough?” says Mr. Smithers.

“Why,” says Mr. Aminadab, “he’s once more of the firm of Brough and Off, sir—­he breakfasted at Calais this morning!”

CHAPTER XI

IN WHICH IT APPEARS THAT A MAN MAY POSSESS A DIAMOND AND YET BE VERY HARD PRESSED FOR A DINNER

On that fatal Saturday evening, in a hackney-coach, fetched from the Foundling, was I taken from my comfortable house and my dear little wife; whom Mr. Smithers was left to console as he might.  He said that I was compelled to take a journey upon business connected with the office; and my poor Mary made up a little portmanteau of clothes, and tied a comforter round my neck, and bade my companion particularly to keep the coach windows shut:  which injunction the grinning wretch promised to obey.  Our journey was not long:  it was only a shilling fare to Cursitor Street, Chancery Lane, and there I was set down.