“Fact, sir, fact,” he said, taking another pinch of snuff and snapping his fingers triumphantly. “Why, I’d hardly forgive that in a daily paper where there’s a rush on, and it’s got up in the night; but in a thing like a Chancery-bill it’s inexcusable. Well, now about yourself, Grace. I’m glad you are getting on, boy. Never mind what I said; it’s better than being a reader, and growing into a snuffy cantankerous old scarecrow like me. Read your stick well, my boy, and I hope—no, I’m sure you’ll get on. But I say, what will you have to eat?”
“I’m not hungry, Mr Jabez,” I said; “and, look here, I haven’t delivered my message to you.”
“Message? To me?”
“Yes, sir. Miss Carr wished me to ask you if you would come and dine with her to-morrow.”
“Me? Dine with Miss Carr—Carr—Carr? Why, that’s the girl Lister was to have married.”
“Yes—Miss Carr,” I said.
“But me dine with her! Why, she hasn’t fallen in love with me now, has she?”
“Oh no,” I said, laughing. “She wants to see you on business.”
“See me on business? why, Grace,” he said excitedly, “I was to be paid my five hundred out of her money, and wasn’t paid. Is she repenting, and going to give it to me?”
“No,” I said; “I don’t think it’s that.”