“Ah!” rejoined Mr. Weller, “the funs; two hundred pounds o’ the money is to be inwested for you, Samivel, in the funs; four and a half per cent. reduced counsels, Sammy.”
“Wery kind o’ the old lady to think o’ me,” said Sam, “and I’m wery much obliged to her.”
“The rest vill be inwested in my name,” continued the elder Mr. Weller; “and ven I’m took off the road, it’ll come to you, so take care you don’t spend it all at vunst, my boy, and mind that no widder gets a inklin’ o’ your fortun’, or you’re done.”
Having delivered this warning, Mr. Weller resumed his pipe with a more serene countenance; the disclosure of these matters appearing to have eased his mind considerably.
“Somebody’s a tappin’ at the door,” said Sam.
“Let ’em tap,” replied his father, with dignity.
Sam acted upon the direction. There was another tap, and another, and then a long row of taps; upon which Sam inquired why the tapper was not admitted.
“Hush,” whispered Mr. Weller, with apprehensive looks, “don’t take no notice on ’em, Sammy, it’s vun o’ the widders, p’raps.”
No notice being taken of the taps, the unseen visitor, after a short lapse, ventured to open the door and peep in. It was no female head that was thrust in at the partially opened door, but the long black locks and red face of Mr. Stiggins. Mr. Weller’s pipe fell from his hands.