When this tale was done, Percival did not neglect the gentle task of
admonition, which the poor sweeper's softened heart and dull remorse
made easier. He pointed out, in soft tones, how the avarice he had
indulged had been perhaps mercifully chastised, and drew no ineloquent
picture of the vicious miseries of the confirmed miser. Beck listened
humbly and respectfully; though so little did he understand of mercy and
Providence and vice that the diviner part of the homily was quite lost
on him. However, he confessed penitently that "the mattress had made
him vorse nor a beast to the h-old crittur;" and that "he was cured of
saving to the end of his days."

"And now," said Percival, "as you really seem not strong enough to
bear this out-of-door work (the winter coming on, too), what say you to
entering into my service? I want some help in my stables. The work is
easy enough, and you are used to horses, you know, in a sort of a way."

Beck hesitated, and looked a moment undecided. At last he said, "Please
your honour, if I bean't strong enough for the crossin', I 'se afeared
I'm too h-ailing to sarve you. And voud n't I be vorse nor a wiper to
take your vages and not vork for 'em h-as I h-ought?"

"Pooh! we'll soon make you strong, my man. Take my advice; don't let
your head run on the crossing. That kind of industry exposes you to bad
company and bad thoughts."

"That's vot it is, sir," said Beck, assentingly, laying his dexter
forefinger on his sinister palm.

"Well! you are in my service, then. Go downstairs now and get your
breakfast; by and by you shall show me your 'mammy's' house, and we'll
see what can be done for her."

Beck pressed his hands to his eyes, trying hard not to cry; but it was
too much for him; and as the valet, who appeared to Percival's summons,
led him down the stairs, his sobs were heard from attic to basement.

CHAPTER XIV. NEWS FROM GRABMAN.

That day, opening thus auspiciously to Beck, was memorable also to other
and more prominent persons in this history.

Early in the forenoon a parcel was brought to Madame Dalibard which
contained Ardworth's already famous book, a goodly assortment of
extracts from the newspapers thereon, and the following letter from the
young author:--

You will see, by the accompanying packet, that your counsels have had
weight with me. I have turned aside in my slow, legitimate career. I
have, as you desired, made "men talk of me." What solid benefit