disappointed.' They
don't intend to do their duty by her, any more than I do; so why should
she do her duty by them?"

"Don't intend to do your duty?"

"I'm going out because England's money is necessary to me; and England
hires me because my skill is necessary to her. I didn't think of duty
when I settled to go, and why should she? I'll get all out of her I can
in the way of pay and practice, and she may get all she can out of me in
the way of work. As for being ill-used, I never expect to be anything
else in this life. I'm sure I don't care; and I'm sure she don't; so
live and let live; talk plain truth, and leave Bunkum for right
honourables who keep their places thereby. Give me another weed."

"Queer old philosopher you are; but go you shan't!"

"Go I will, sir; don't stop me. I've my reasons, and they're good ones
enough."

The conversation was interrupted by the servant;--Lord Minchampstead was
waiting at Mr. Armsworth's office.

"Early bird, his lordship, and gets the worm accordingly," says Mark, as
he hurries off to attend on his ideal hero. "You come over to the shop
in half-an-hour, mind."

"But why?"

"Confound you, sir! you talk of having your reasons: I have mine!"

Mark looked quite cross; so Tom gave way, and went in due time to the
bank.

Standing with his back to the fire in Mark's inner room, he saw the old
cotton prince.

"And a prince he looks like," quoth Tom to himself, as he waited in the
bank outside, and looked through the glass screen. "How well the old man
wears! I wonder how many fresh thousands he has made since I saw him
last, seven years ago."

And a very noble person Lord Minchampstead did look; one to whom hats
went off almost without their owners' will; tall and portly, with a
soldier-like air of dignity and command, which was relieved by the
good-nature of the countenance. Yet it was a good-nature which would
stand no trifling. The jaw was deep and broad, though finely shaped; the
mouth firm set; the nose slightly aquiline; the brow of great depth and
height, though narrow;--altogether a Julius Caesar's type of head; that
of a man born to rule self, and therefore to rule all he met.

Tom looked over his dress, not forgetting, like a true Englishman, to
mark what sort of boots he wore. They were boots not quite fashionable,
but carefully cleaned on trees; trousers strapped tightly over them,
which had adopted the military stripe, but retained the slit at the
ankle w