look less
perplexed than she felt.

He asked her slyly why she had come to London; and she begged that she
might speak of it by-and-by; whereat Mr. Pole declared that he intended
to laugh them all out of that nonsense. "And what did you say about being
in love with him? A doctor in good practice--but you needn't commence by
killing me if you do go and marry the fellow. Eh? what is it?"

Emilia was too much entangled herself to attempt to extricate him; and
apparently his wish to be enlightened passed away, for he was the next
instant searching among his papers for the letter from Riga. Not finding
it, he put on his hat.

"Must give up business to-day. Can't do business with a petticoat in the
room. I wish the Lord Mayor'd stop them all at Temple Bar. Now we'll go
out, and I'll show you a bit of the City."

He offered her his arm, and she noticed that in walking through the
office, he was erect, and the few words he spoke were delivered in the
peremptory elastic tone of a vigorous man.

"My girls," he said to her in an undertone, "never come here. Well! we
don't expect ladies, you know. Different spheres in this world. They mean
to be tip-top in society; and quite right too. My dear, I think we'll
ride. Do you mind being seen in a cab?"

He asked her hesitatingly: and when Emilia said, "Oh, no! let us ride,"
he seemed relieved. "I can't see the harm in a cab. Different tastes, in
this world. My girls--but, thank the Lord! they've got carriages."

For an hour the merchant and Emilia drove about the City. He showed her
all the great buildings, and dilated on the fabulous piles of wealth they
represented, taking evident pleasure in her exclamations of astonishment.

"Yes, yes; they may despise us City fellows. I say, 'Come and see":
that's all! Now, look up that court. Do you see three dusty windows on
the second floor? That man there could buy up any ten princes in
Europe--excepting one or two Austrians or Russians. He wears a coat just
like mine."

"Does he?" said Emilia, involuntarily examining the one by her side.

"We don't show our gold-linings, in the City, my dear."

"But, you are rich, too."

"Oh! I--as far as that goes. Don't talk about me. I'm--I'm still cold in
the feet. Now, look at that corner house. Three months ago that man was
one of our most respected City merchants. Now he's a bankrupt, and can't
show his head. It was all rotten. A medlar! He tampered with documents;
betrayed trusts. What do