"Where the devil is Bermuda?" asked Sheridan, taking snuff.
"That is where the onions come from, you ancient ignoramus, but its geographical location does not matter tuppence," said Moore. "If you get the place for me, sir, I will accept it gladly, and I thank you more than I can tell for the attempt, whether you succeed or not."
"Pshaw," said Lord Brooking, "wait until I put the appointment in your hands, Tom."
"Ah," said Bessie, softly, "your lordship knows how grateful we both are for your many kindnesses."
"Say no more about it," replied the young nobleman, blushing like a girl. "If I may truthfully congratulate myself on having made the world brighter and life's path easier for two such deserving friends, I have gained a satisfaction no money could ever purchase."
Moore shook his patron's hand with a grip that conveyed more than any words of thanks could have done.
"Tommy, my boy, don't you need a private secretary?" inquired Sheridan.
"Thank you, I 'll have no such lady-killer in my official family," replied Moore.
"I congratulate you both," said Brummell, "but we will miss you when Bermuda claims your society."
"You shall still be in touch with the world," said Sheridan. "I 'll write you all the scandal once a week."