ly passed on till I came to the
end of the square, where I stood still, and pondered for a while.
Suddenly, however, like one who has formed a resolution, I clenched my
right hand, flinging my hat somewhat on one side, and, turning back with
haste to the door before which I had stopped, I sprang up the steps, and
gave a loud rap, ringing at the same time the bell of the area. After
the lapse of a minute the door was opened by a maid-servant of no very
cleanly or prepossessing appearance, of whom I demanded, in a tone of
some hauteur, whether the master of the house was at home. Glancing for
a moment at the white paper bundle beneath my arm, the handmaid made no
reply in words, but, with a kind of toss of her head, flung the door
open, standing on one side as if to let me enter. I did enter; and the
handmaid, having opened another door on the right hand, went in, and said
something which I could not hear: after a considerable pause, however, I
heard the voice of a man say, "Let him come in;" whereupon the handmaid,
coming out, motioned me to enter, and, on my obeying, instantly closed
the door behind me.

CHAPTER XXX

The Sinister Glance--Excellent Correspondent--Quite Original--My System--A
Losing Trade--Merit--Starting a Review--What Have You
Got?--Stop!--Dairyman's Daughter--Oxford Principles--More
Conversation--How is This?

There were two individuals in the room in which I now found myself; it
was a small study, surrounded with bookcases, the window looking out upon
the square. Of these individuals he who appeared to be the principal
stood with his back to the fireplace. He was a tall stout man, about
sixty, dressed in a loose morning gown. The expression of his
countenance would have been bluff but for a certain sinister glance, and
his complexion might have been called rubicund but for a considerable
tinge of bilious yellow. He eyed me askance as I entered. The other, a
pale, shrivelled-looking person, sat at a table apparently engaged with
an account-book; he took no manner of notice of me, never once lifting
his eyes from the page before him.

"Well, sir, what is your pleasure!" said the big man, {270} in a rough
tone, as I stood there, looking at him wistfully--as well I might--for
upon that man, at the time of which I am speaking, my principal, I may
say my only, hopes rested.

"Sir," said I, "my name is so-and-so, and I am the bearer of a letter to
you from Mr. so-and-so, an old friend a