provided. When she
had hastily bathed her face and changed her dress she came back to the
room where she had left him, to find him in careless conversation with
Tozer, who only half-recovered from the excitement of last night, but
much overawed by a visit from so great a personage, had managed to put
aside the matter which occupied his own thoughts, in order to carry on a
kind of worship of Clarence, who was the son of the richest man he had
ever heard of, and consequently appeared to the retired butterman a very
demigod. Clarence was yawning loudly, his arms raised over his head in
total indifference to Tozer, when Phoebe came into the room; and the old
man seized upon the occasion of her entrance to perform another act of
worship.

"Ah, here's Phoebe at last. Mr. Copperhead's come in from the country, my
dear, and he's going to make us proud, he is, by accepting of a bit of
breakfast. I tell him it's a wretched poor place for him as has palaces
at his command; but what we can give him is the best quality, that I
answers for--and you're one as knows how things should be, even if we
ain't grand ourselves."

"Have you palaces at your command, Clarence?" she said, with a smile.
Notwithstanding the fatigue of the night, the fresh air and her
ablutions, and the agitation and commotion of her mind, made Phoebe
almost more animated and brilliant than usual. Her eyes shone with the
anxiety and excitement of the crisis, and a little, too, with the glory
and delight of success; for though Clarence Copperhead was not very much
to brag of in his own person, he still had been the object before her
for some time back, and she had got him. And yet Phoebe was not
mercenary, though she was not "in love" with her heavy lover in the
ordinary sense of the word. She went towards him now, and stood near
him, looking at him with a smile. He was a big, strong fellow, which is
a thing most women esteem, and he was not without good looks; and he
would be rich, and might be thrust into a position which would produce
both honour and advantage; and lastly, he was her own, which gives even
the most indifferent article a certain value in some people's eyes.

"Palaces? I don't know, but nice enough houses; and you know you like a
nice house, Miss Phoebe. Here, I haven't said a word to the old
gentleman. Tell him; I ain't come all this way for nothing. You've
always got the right words at your fingers' end. Tell him, and let's get
it over. I think