The Marchioness was a small servant employed by Sampson Brass and his
sister Sally, as general house-worker and drudge, in which capacity she
was discovered by Mr. Richard Swiveller, upon the very first day of his
entering the Brass establishment as clerk.

The Brasses' house was a small one in Bevis Marks, London, having upon
its door a plate, "Brass, Solicitor," and a bill tied to the knocker,
"First floor to let to a single gentleman," and served not only as
habitation, but likewise as office for Sampson Brass,--of none too good
legal repute,--and his sister; a gaunt, bony copy of her red-haired
brother, who was his housekeeper, as well as his business partner.

When the Brasses decided to keep a clerk, Richard Swiveller was chosen
to fill the place; and be it known to whom it may concern, that the said
Richard was the merriest, laziest, weakest, most kind-hearted fellow who
ever sowed a large crop of wild oats, and by a sudden stroke of
good-luck found himself raised to a salaried position.

Clad in a blue jacket with a double row of gilt buttons, bought for
acquatic expeditions, but now dedicated to office purposes, Richard
entered upon his new duties, and during that first afternoon, while Mr.
Brass and his sister were temporarily absent from the office, he began a
minute examination of its contents.

Then, after assuaging his thirst with a pint of mild porter, and
receiving and dismissing three or four small boys who dropped in on
legal errands from other attorneys, with about as correct an
understanding of their business as would have been shown by a clown in a
pantomime under similar circumstances, he tried his hand at a
pen-and-ink caricature of Miss Brass, in which work he was busily
engaged, when there came a rapping at the office-door.

"Come in!" said Dick. "Don't stand on ceremony. The business will get
rather complicated if I have many more customers. Come in!"

"Oh, please," said a little voice very low down in the doorway, "will
you come and show the lodgings?"

Dick leaned over the table, and descried a small slipshod girl in a
dirty coarse apron and bib, which left nothing of her visible but her
face and feet. She might as well have been dressed in a violin case.

"Why, who are you?" said Dick.

To which the only reply was, "Oh, please, will you come and show the
lodgings?"

There never was such an old-fashioned child in her looks and manner. She
must have been at work from her cradle.