gher and higher in his breast, and gathering
strength from day to day; and, at length, Bounder resolved to give his
master "warning," and remove himself from so uncongenial a sphere. He did
not quite like to make his master's kindness to the poor invalid girl his
ostensible reason for desiring a change; and, while he was looking around
for a plausible pretext, the course of events supplied him with exactly
such an occasion as he sought.

Bounder had not as yet become aware of the daily visits of his master to
his old workshop. He had been kept in ignorance of the matter merely
because there was no special reason why he should be informed. One
afternoon, on leaving home, "Cobbler" Horn had left word with Miss Jemima
for the coachman to come to the old house, with the dog-cart, at three
o'clock. Bounder received the order with a feeling of apathetic wonder as
to what new freak he was expected to countenance and aid. At the entrance
of the street in which the old house stood, he involuntarily pulled up his
horse. Then, with an air of ineffable disdain, he drove slowly on, and
proceeded to the number at which he had been directed to call.

Summoning a passing boy, he ordered him to knock at the door. The boy
contemplated disobedience; but a glance at Bounder's whip induced him to
change his mind, and he gave the door a sounding rap. The door speedily
opened, and Bounder's master appeared. But such was his disguise that
Bounder was necessitated to rub his eyes. Divested of his coat, and
enfolded in a leathern apron, "the Golden Shoemaker" stood in the doorway,
with bare arms, holding out a pair of newly-mended hob-nailed boots.

"That's right," he said; "I'm glad you're punctual. Will you kindly take
these boots to No. 17, Drake Street, round the corner; and then come back
here;" and, stepping out upon the pavement, he placed the boots on the
vacant cushion of the dog-cart, close to Bounder's magnificent person.

Bounder touched his hat as usual; but there was an evil fire in his heart,
and, as he drove slowly away, a lava-tide of fierce thought coursed
through his mind. That he, Bounder, "what had drove real gentlemen and
ladies, such as a member of Parliament and a _barrow-knight_," should have
been ordered to drive home a pair of labourer's boots! This was "the last
straw," indeed!

Arrived at No. 17, Drake Street, Bounder altogether declined to touch the
offending boots. He simply indicated them with his whip to the w