he engagement from which his aunt wanted to free
him. His foolish flame for Maria Esmond had died out long since. If she
would release him, how thankful would he be! "Come! give us your hand,
and say done!" says the lawyer, with a knowing wink. "Don't stand
shilly-shallying, sir. Law bless you, Mr. W., if I had married everybody
I promised, I should be like the Grand Turk, or Captain Macheath in the
play!"

The lawyer's familiarity disgusted Harry, who shrank from Draper,
scarcely knowing that he did so. He folded his dressing gown round him,
and stepped back from the other's proffered hand. "Give me a little time
to think of the matter, if you please, Mr. Draper," he said, "and have
the goodness to come to me again in an hour.

"Very good, sir, very good, sir!" says the lawyer, biting his lips, and,
as he seized up his hat, turning very red. "Most parties would not want
an hour to consider about such an offer as I make you: but I suppose my
time must be yours, and I'll come again, and see whether you are to
go or to stay. Good morning, sir, good morning:" and he went his way,
growling curses down the stairs. "Won't take my hand, won't he? Will
tell me in an hour's time! Hang his impudence! I'll show him what an
hour is!"

Mr. Draper went to his chambers in dudgeon then; bullied his clerks all
round, sent off a messenger to the Baroness, to say that he had
waited on the young gentleman, who had demanded a little time for
consideration, which was for form's sake, as he had no doubt; the lawyer
then saw clients, transacted business, went out to his dinner in the
most leisurely manner; and then finally turned his steps towards the
neighbouring Cursitor Street. "He'll be at home when I call, the haughty
beast!" says Draper, with a sneer. "The Fortunate Youth in his room?"
the lawyer asked of the sheriff's officer's aide-de-camp who came to
open the double doors.

"Mr. Warrington is in his apartment," said the gentleman, "but----" and
here the gentleman winked at Mr. Draper, and laid his hand on his nose.

"But what, Mr. Paddy from Cork?" said the lawyer.

"My name is Costigan; me familee is noble, and me neetive place is the
Irish methrawpolis, Mr. Six-and-eightpence!" said the janitor, scowling
at Draper. A rich odour of spirituous liquors filled the little space
between the double doors where he held the attorney in conversation.

"Confound you, sir, let me pass!" bawled out Mr. Draper.

"I can hear you perfectly