Charlotte gave a little sign to him with her eye, first glancing at her father, and then at the letter, the corner of which peeped out from under the tea–tray. Bertie saw and understood, and with the quiet motion of a cat abstracted the letter, and made himself acquainted with its contents. The doctor, however, had seen him, deep as he appeared to be mersed in his egg–shell, and said in his harshest voice, ‘Well, sir, do you know that gentleman?’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Bertie. ‘I have a sort of acquaintance with him, but none that can justify him in troubling you. If you will allow me, sir, I will answer this.’

‘At any rate I shan’t,’ said the father, and then he added, after a pause, ‘Is it true, sir, that you owe the man £ 700?’

‘Well,’ said Bertie, ‘I think I should be inclined to dispute the amount, if I were in a condition to pay him such of it as I really do owe him.’

‘Has he your bill for £ 700?’ said the father, speaking very loudly and very angrily.

‘Well, I believe he has,’ said Bertie; ‘but all the money I ever got from him was £ 150.’

‘And what became of the £ 550?’

‘Why, sir; the commission was £ 100, or so, and I took the remainder in paving–stones and rocking–horses.’

‘Paving–stones and rocking–horses!’ said the doctor, ‘where are they?’

‘Oh, sir, I suppose they are in London somewhere—but I’ll inquire if you wish for them.’

‘He’s an idiot,’ said the doctor, ‘and it’s sheer folly to waste more money on him. Nothing can save him from ruin,’ and so saying, the unhappy father walked out of the room.

‘Would the governor like to see the paving–stones?’

‘I’ll tell you what,’ said she. ‘If you don’t take care, you will find yourself loose upon the world without even a house over your head: you don’t know him as well as I do. He’s very angry.’

Bertie stroked his big beard, sipped his tea, chatted over his misfortunes in a half comic, half serious tone, and ended by promising his sister that he would do his very best to make himself agreeable to the widow Bold. Then Charlotte followed her father to his own room and softened down his wrath, and persuaded him to say nothing more about the Jew bill discounter, at any rate for a few weeks. He even went so far as to say he would pay the £ 700, or at any rate settle the bill, if he saw a certainty of his son’s securing for himself anything like a decent provision in life. Nothing was said openly between them about poor Eleanor: but the father and the daughter understood each other.

They all met together in the drawing–room at nine o’clock, in perfect good humour with each other; and about that hour Mrs Bold was announced. She had never been in the house before, though she had of course called: and now she felt it strange to find herself there in her usual evening dress, entering the drawing–room of these strangers in this friendly unceremonious way, as though she had known them all her life. But in three minutes they made her at home. Charlotte tripped downstairs and took her bonnet from her, and Bertie came to relieve her from her shawl, and the signora smiled on her as she could smile when she chose to be gracious, and the old doctor shook hands with her in a kind and benedictory manner that went to her heart at once, and made her feel that he must be a good man.

She had not been seated for above five minutes when the door again opened, and Mr Slope was announced. She felt rather surprised, because she was told that nobody was to be there, and it was very evident from the manner of some of them that Mr Slope was unexpected. But still there was not much in it. In such invitations a bachelor or two more or less are always spoken of as nobodies, and there was no


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