I had not made the face, the eye, the accent, as much my study as
the mere legal and financial points of discount. To show what I mean, I
will relate what happened to me not long since:--

One day, a middle-aged man, in the usual costume of a West-End shopman,
who had sent in his name as Mr. Axminster, was shown into my private
room. After a little hesitation, he said, "Although you do not know me,
living at this end of the town, I know you very well by reputation, and
that you discount bills. I have a bill here which I want to get
discounted. I am in the employ of Messrs. Russle and Smooth. The bill
is drawn by one of our best customers, the Hon. Miss Snape, niece of
Lord Blimley, and accepted by Major Munge; whom, no doubt, you know by
name. She has dealt with us for some years, is very, very extravagant;
but always pays." He put the acceptance--which was for two hundred
pounds--into my hands.

I looked at it as scrutinizingly as I usually do at such paper. The
Major's signature was familiar to me; but having succeeded to a great
estate, he has long ceased to be a customer. I instantly detected a
forgery; by whom? was the question. Could it be the man before me?
experience told me it was not. Perhaps there was something in the
expression of my countenance which Mr. Axminster did not like, for he
said, "It is good for the amount, I presume?"

I replied, "Pray, sir, from whom did you get this bill?"

"From Miss Snape herself."

"Have you circulated any other bills made by the same drawer?"

"O yes!" said the draper, without hesitation; "I have paid away a bill
for one hundred pounds to Mr. Sparkle, the jeweller, to whom Miss Snape
owed twenty pounds. They gave me the difference."

"And how long has that bill to run now?"

"About a fortnight."

"Did you endorse it?"

"I did; Mr. Sparkle required me to do so, to show that the bill came
properly into his possession."

"This second bill, you say, is urgently required to enable Miss Snape to
leave town?"

"Yes; she is going to Brighton for the winter."

I gave Mr. Axminster a steady, piercing look of inquiry. "Pray, sir," I
said, "could you meet that one hundred pounds bill, supposing it could
not be paid by the acceptor?"

"Meet it?" The poor fellow wiped from his forehead the perspiration
which suddenly broke out at the bare hint of a probability that the bill
would be dishonored: "Meet it? O no! I am a married man, with a family,
and have nothing but my