ed.

"It's good enough for the office, and what more does he want?" answered
Mr Fluke. "Why, I have worn my suit well-nigh ten years, and it is as
good as ever. Who finds fault with my coat, I should like to know?"

"The boy wants a thick overcoat, at all events," continued Kezia, who
had no intention of letting the matter drop. "If you don't get him one,
I will. He will catch his death of cold one of these days. He is not
looking half as well as he did when he came, although he has grown
wonderfully; he will, indeed, soon be too big for his jacket and
trousers, if they do not come to pieces first."

"Do as you choose, Kezia," said Mr Fluke. "You always will have your
own way, so there's no use contradicting you."

"Then I'll get him a fresh suit and a topcoat before many hours are
over, and not a day too soon either," answered Kezia, rubbing her hands
in the way she always did when well satisfied with herself or with
things in general.

"No! no!" almost shrieked Mr Fluke. "If he gets a topcoat that will
hide the threadbare jacket you talk of, and that will serve well enough
in the office for a year to come, or more."

"You said, Mr Fluke, that I was to do as I chose," exclaimed Kezia,
looking her master in the face. "You are a man of your word, and always
have been from your youth upwards, and I, for one, will not let you
break it in your old age. I choose to get Owen a new suit and a
topcoat, so say no more about the matter."

The next morning Kezia appeared in her bonnet and shawl as Owen was
about to start.

"Let the old man go on first, I am going with you," she said.

Mr Fluke was never a moment behind time in starting from home, and he
knew that Owen could easily overtake him.

Kezia accompanied Owen to Mr Snipton's, a respectable tailor in the
City, where she ordered an entire suit and a thoroughly comfortable
topcoat.

"Take his measure," she said, "and allow for his growing; remember Simon
Fluke will pay for the things."

Mr Snipton did as he was directed, and while Owen hurried on to
overtake Mr Fluke before he reached the office, Kezia returned home.
Owen had, however, to wear his threadbare jacket for some days longer.
During this period he was returning one evening, and was crossing
Bishopsgate Street, when a hooded gig, or cab, as it was called,
containing two young gentlemen--one of whom, dressed in a naval uniform,
was driving--came dashing along at a rapid rate. It was in a nar