ke you
home, sir?"

The stranger shook his head mournfully. All this time, little Jem had
been assiduously employed in rubbing his feet and then his hands; in
doing which the piece of dirty parchment, with the miniature-frame,
dropped out of his breast-pocket. A good thought instantly struck Peggy.

"Run, Jemmy dear--run with that golden thing to Mr. Spikechin, the
pawnbroker's--get something upon it directly, and buy some nice
brandy--and some Godfrey's cordial--and a blanket, Jemmy--and call a
coach, and get up outside on it, and make the coachee drive back here as
fast as you can."

But before Jemmy could attend to this, Mr. Waterhouse, the stranger
whose life they had preserved, raised himself on one elbow, and extended
his hand to the miniature-frame. Directly he looked at it, he raised
himself higher up--turned it about once or twice--then caught up the
piece of parchment; and uttering an ejaculation, which no one could have
distinguished either as of joy or of pain, sank back fainting.

In brief, this parchment was a portion of the title-deeds he had lost;
and though it did not prove sufficient to enable him to recover his
fortune, it brought his opponent to a composition, which gave him an
annuity for life. Small as this was, he determined that these poor
people, who had so generously saved his life at the risk of their own,
should be sharers in it. Finding that what they most desired was to have
a cottage in the neighborhood of the dust-heap, built large enough for
all three to live together, and keep a cow, Mr. Waterhouse paid a visit
to Manchester-square, where the owner of the property resided. He told
his story, as far as was needful, and proposed to purchase the field in
question.

The great dust-contractor was much amused, and his daughter--a very
accomplished young lady--was extremely interested. So the matter was
speedily arranged to the satisfaction and pleasure of all parties. The
acquaintance, however, did not end here. Mr. Waterhouse renewed his
visits very frequently, and finally made proposals for the young lady's
hand, she having already expressed her hopes of a propitious answer from
her father.

"Well, sir," said the latter, "you wish to marry my daughter, and she
wishes to marry you. You are a gentleman and a scholar, but you have no
money. My daughter is what you see, and she has no money. But I have;
and therefore, as she likes you, and I like you, I'll make you both an
offer. I will