imate friends as ourselves,' pursues Veneering,
'there should in such a case be no reserve. Promise me that if I ask you
to do anything for me which you don't like to do, or feel the slightest
difficulty in doing, you will freely tell me so.'

This, Twemlow is so kind as to promise, with every appearance of most
heartily intending to keep his word.

'Would you have any objection to write down to Snigsworthy Park, and ask
this favour of Lord Snigsworth? Of course if it were granted I should
know that I owed it solely to you; while at the same time you would put
it to Lord Snigsworth entirely upon public grounds. Would you have any
objection?'

Says Twemlow, with his hand to his forehead, 'You have exacted a promise
from me.'

'I have, my dear Twemlow.'

'And you expect me to keep it honourably.'

'I do, my dear Twemlow.'

'ON the whole, then;--observe me,' urges Twemlow with great nicety, as
if; in the case of its having been off the whole, he would have done it
directly--'ON the whole, I must beg you to excuse me from addressing any
communication to Lord Snigsworth.'

'Bless you, bless you!' says Veneering; horribly disappointed, but
grasping him by both hands again, in a particularly fervent manner.

It is not to be wondered at that poor Twemlow should decline to inflict
a letter on his noble cousin (who has gout in the temper), inasmuch
as his noble cousin, who allows him a small annuity on which he lives,
takes it out of him, as the phrase goes, in extreme severity; putting
him, when he visits at Snigsworthy Park, under a kind of martial law;
ordaining that he shall hang his hat on a particular peg, sit on a
particular chair, talk on particular subjects to particular people, and
perform particular exercises: such as sounding the praises of the Family
Varnish (not to say Pictures), and abstaining from the choicest of the
Family Wines unless expressly invited to partake.

'One thing, however, I CAN do for you,' says Twemlow; 'and that is, work
for you.'

Veneering blesses him again.

'I'll go,' says Twemlow, in a rising hurry of spirits, 'to the
club;--let us see now; what o'clock is it?'

'Twenty minutes to eleven.'

'I'll be,' says Twemlow, 'at the club by ten minutes to twelve, and I'll
never leave it all day.'

Veneering feels that his friends are rallying round him, and says,
'Thank you, thank you. I knew I could rely upon you. I said to Anastatia
before leaving home just now to come to you--of