"But the fact is I have such trust in you and the silent gentleman out there, that I believe you would fit me for the next twenty years, though you were never to see me."
"Oh, thank you, Mr. Newton,—2, 4, and 1/8th, Waddle. I think Mr. Newton is a little stouter. But, perhaps, you may work that off before November, Mr. Newton. Thank you, Mr. Newton;—I think that'll do. You'll find we shan't be far wrong. Three pair, Mr. Newton?"
"Yes;—I think three pair will see me through next season. I don't suppose I shall hunt above four days, and I have some by me."
Some by him! There must be drawers full of them,—presses full of them, chests full of them! Waddle, the melancholy and suspicious Waddle, was sure that their customer was playing them false,—raising money on the garments as soon as they were sent to him; but he did not dare to say anything of this after the snubbing which he had already received. If old Neefit chose to be done by a dishonest young man it was nothing to him. But in truth Waddle did not understand men as well as did his master;—and then he knew nothing of his master's ambitious hopes.
"The bishops came out very strong last night;—didn't they?" said Ralph, in the outer shop.
"Very strong, indeed, Mr. Newton;—very strong."
"But, after all, they're nothing but a pack of old women."
"That's about what they are, Mr. Newton."
"Not but what we must have a Church, I suppose."
"We should do very badly without a Church, Mr. Newton. At least that is my opinion." Then Ralph left the shop, and the breeches-maker bowed him out of the door.