hopes of promotion at "the office," he had considerable "expectations"
from a bachelor uncle, reported to be enormously wealthy and with no
near kindred to leave his money to save our friend Horner, who
cultivated him accordingly.

No, Horner never got into debt. He was said to be in the habit of
promptly discharging all his tailor's claims punctually every year, as
the gay and festive season of Christmas--and bills!--came round.

Truth to say, however, there need not have been any great astonishment
concerning Horner in this respect. The surprise would have been that he
had _not_ discharged his just obligations to his tailor and others; for
his habits were regular, and he was guiltless of the faintest soupcon of
extravagance. He never played billiards, did not smoke, did not care
about "little dinners" at Richmond or elsewhere, never betted, never
went to the Derby, seldom, if ever, patronised the theatre, unless
admitted through the medium of orders; consequently, he had no
expenditure, with the exception of that required for his toilet, as he
eschewed all those many and various ways mentioned for running through
money, which more excitable but less conscientious mortals than himself
find thrown in their way.

His neatly-clad form and constant eye-glass were in great request at all
tea-parties and carpet dances that took place in the social circle to
which he belonged; but, beyond such slight beguilements of "life's dull
weary round," his existence was uneventful. His character altogether
might be said to have been a negative one, as the only speciality for
which he was particularly distinguished was for the variety of
intonation and meaning which he could give to his two favourite
exclamations, "Yaas," and "Bai-ey Je-ove!"--thus economising his
conversational powers to a considerable extent, which was a great
advantage for him--and others, too, as he might, you know, have had
little more to say.

Horner's principal amusement when at home on a Sunday, was to go to
church; that is, if he had not to go to town, which was sometimes the
case even on the great day of rest, through his diplomatic skill being
required in Downing Street. This was what he said, pleading his having
to adjust some nice and knotty point of difference between the valiant
King of Congo and the neighbouring and pugnacious Ja Ja, or else to
remonstrate, in firm and equable language, as Officialdom knows so well
how to do, against the repeat