never once looked back, you may tell her that I have, sometimes, to recall her taking part with you, and that my resolution is no easier to wear away;' he smiled very sweetly here; `than marble.'

`I tell her nothing of you. We never speak about you. Once a year, on your birthday, Harriet says always, "Let us remember James by name, and wish him happy," but we say no more.'

`Tell it then, if you please,' returned the other, `to yourself. You can't repeat it too often, as a lesson to you to avoid the subject in speaking to me. I know no Harriet Carker. There is no such person. Youmay have a sister; make much of her. I have none.'

Mr. Carker the Manager took up the letter again, and waved it with a smile of mock courtesy towards the door. Unfolding it as his brother withdrew, and looking darkly after him as he left the room, he once more turned round in his elbow-chair, and applied himself to a diligent perusal of its contents.

It was in the writing of his great chief, Mr. Dombey, and dated from Leamington. Though he was a quick reader of all other letters, Mr. Carker read this slowly; weighing the words as he went, and bringing every tooth in his head to bear upon them. When he had read it through once, he turned it over again, and picked out these passages. `I find myself benefited by the change, and am not yet inclined to name any time for my return.' `I wish, Carker, you would arrange to come down once and see me here, and let me know how things are going on, in person.' `I omitted to speak to you about young Gay. If not gone per Son and Heir, or if Son and Heir still lying in the Docks, appoint some other young man and keep him in the City for the present. I am not decided.' `Now that's unfortunate!' said Mr. Carker the Manager, expanding his mouth, as if it were made of India-rubber: `for he is far away.'

Still that passage, which was in a postscript, attracted his attention and his teeth, once more.

`I think,' he said, `my good friend Captain Cuttle mentioned something about being towed along in the wake of that day. What a pity he's so far away!'

He refolded the letter, and was sitting trifling with it, standing it long-wise and broad-wise on his table, and turning it over and over on all sides--doing pretty much the same thing, perhaps, by its contents-- when Mr. Perch the messenger knocked softly at the door, and coming in on tiptoe, bending his body at every step as if it were the delight of his life to bow, laid some papers on the table.

`Would you please to be engaged, Sir?' asked Mr. Perch, rubbing his hands, and deferentially putting his head on one side, like a man who felt he had no business to hold it up in such a presence, and would keep it as much out of the way as possible.

`Who wants me?'

`Why, Sir,' said Mr. Perch, in a soft voice, `really nobody, Sir, to speak of at present. Mr. Gills the Ship's Instrument-maker, Sir, has looked in, about a little matter of payment, he says: but I mentioned to him, Sir, that you was engaged several deep; several deep.'

Mr. Perch coughed once behind his hand, and waited for further orders.

`Anybody else?'

`Well, Sir,' said Mr. Perch, `I wouldn't of my own self take the liberty of mentioning, Sir, that there was anybody else; but that same young lad that was here yesterday, Sir, and last week, has been hanging about the place; and it looks, Sir,' added Mr. Perch, stopping to shut the door, `dreadful unbusiness-like to see him whistling to the sparrows down the court, and making of 'em answer him.'

`You said he wanted something to do, didn't you, Perch?' asked Mr. Carker, leaning back in his chair and looking at that officer.