Half an hour elapsed, during which Mr. Greenwood pursued his studies, when he was again interrupted by the entrance of a visitor.
This time it was Mr. Tomlinson, the stock-broker.
After having transacted a little pecuniary business together, Greenwood said, "What have you done with the old man?"
"I have taken a lodging for him in an obscure street of Bethnal Green, and there he is residing," answered Tomlinson.
"My plan was better," observed Greenwood, dogmatically: "you should have had him locked up in one of Tidkins's subterranean cells, and allowed three or four shillings a week for his maintenance."
"Impossible!" cried Tomlinson, indignantly. "I could never have acted so unmanly—so ungrateful—so atrocious a part."
"Well, just as you please," returned the Member of Parliament: "of course, you know best."
"We will not discuss that point," said Tomlinson.
"That is precisely what I said some time since to a deputation from the free and independent electors of Rottenborough, when they sent to remonstrate with me on a certain portion of my parliamentary conduct," observed Mr. Greenwood.
At this moment Lafleur entered and whispered something in his master's ear.