hom
he had before seen, fumbling in her pocket for the door-key. She had
been evidently out shopping, having a plate in her left hand, over which
her apron was partially thrown. "Hope you've not been ringing long,
sir!"

"Oh dear! no ma'am," replied Titmouse, with anxious civility, and a
truly miserable smile--"Afraid I may have kept _them_ waiting," he
added, almost dreading to hear the answer.

"Oh no, sir, not at all--they've all been gone since a little after
nine; but there's a letter I was to give you!" She opened the door;
Titmouse nearly dropping with fright. "I'll get it for you, sir--let me
see, where did I put it?--Oh, in the clerk's room, I think." Titmouse
followed her in. "Dear me--where can it be?" she continued, peering
about, and then snuffing the long wick of the candle, which she had left
burning for the last quarter of an hour, during her absence. "I _hope_
none of the clerks has put it away in mistake! Well, it isn't _here_,
anyhow."

"Perhaps, ma'am, it's in their _own_ room," suggested Titmouse, in a
faint tone.

"Oh, p'r'aps it is!" she replied. "We'll go and see"--and she led the
way, followed closely by Titmouse, who caught his breath spasmodically
as he passed the green-baize door. Yes, there was the room--the scene of
last night was transacted there, and came crowding over his
recollection--there was the green-shaded candlestick--the table covered
with papers--an arm-chair near it, in which, probably, Mr. Quirk had
been sitting only an hour before to write the letter they were now in
quest of, and which might be to forbid him their presence forever! How
dreary and deserted the room looked, thought he as he peered about it in
search of the dreaded letter!

"Oh, here it is!--well, I never!--who could have put it here, now? I'm
sure I didn't. Let me see--it was, no doubt"--said the old woman,
holding the letter in one hand and putting the other to her head.

"Never mind, ma'am," said Titmouse, stretching his hand towards
her--"now we've got it, it don't much signify." She gave it to him.
"Seem _particularly_ anxious for me to get it--did they, ma'am?" he
inquired, with a strong effort to appear unconcerned--the dreaded letter
quite quivering, the while, in his fingers.

"No, sir--Mr. Quirk only said I was to give it you when you called.
B'lieve they sent it to you, but the clerk said he couldn't find your
place out; by the way, (excuse me, sir,) but yours _is_ a funny name!
How I heard