hat you and I spend it together, and that you get into the bargain a
beautiful young wife.'

'I suppose there's no doubt about his being rich'--said Dick.

'Doubt! Did you hear what he left fall the other day when we were
there? Doubt! What will you doubt next, Dick?'

It would be tedious to pursue the conversation through all its artful
windings, or to develope the gradual approaches by which the heart of
Richard Swiveller was gained. It is sufficient to know that vanity,
interest, poverty, and every spendthrift consideration urged him to
look upon the proposal with favour, and that where all other
inducements were wanting, the habitual carelessness of his disposition
stepped in and still weighed down the scale on the same side. To these
impulses must be added the complete ascendancy which his friend had
long been accustomed to exercise over him--an ascendancy exerted in the
beginning sorely at the expense of his friend's vices, and was in nine
cases out of ten looked upon as his designing tempter when he was
indeed nothing but his thoughtless, light-headed tool.

The motives on the other side were something deeper than any which
Richard Swiveller entertained or understood, but these being left to
their own development, require no present elucidation. The negotiation
was concluded very pleasantly, and Mr Swiveller was in the act of
stating in flowery terms that he had no insurmountable objection to
marrying anybody plentifully endowed with money or moveables, who could
be induced to take him, when he was interrupted in his observations by
a knock at the door, and the consequent necessity of crying 'Come in.'

The door was opened, but nothing came in except a soapy arm and a
strong gush of tobacco. The gush of tobacco came from the shop
downstairs, and the soapy arm proceeded from the body of a
servant-girl, who being then and there engaged in cleaning the stars
had just drawn it out of a warm pail to take in a letter, which letter
she now held in her hand, proclaiming aloud with that quick perception
of surnames peculiar to her class that it was for Mister Snivelling.

Dick looked rather pale and foolish when he glanced at the direction,
and still more so when he came to look at the inside, observing that it
was one of the inconveniences of being a lady's man, and that it was
very easy to talk as they had been talking, but he had quite forgotten
her.

'Her. Who?' demanded Trent.

'Sophy Wackles,' said Dick.