“My dear fellow, how you talk!” said Mr. Black, with a smile of infinite superiority, “why, you might put double the money up in a corner and scarcely see it! Most economical I call the whole arrangement. You have a drawing-room fit to ask anybody into, a grand trichord thingamajig of Erard’s, good solid chairs and tables, every room fully carpeted, dinner and dessert services complete, glasses large enough for Buckingham Palace, bedchambers that you need not mind putting a duke to sleep in—all for twelve hundred odd pounds!” “But that is more than a year’s income,” Arthur persisted. “I beg your pardon—taking rent and everything, it is not nearly a year’s income; but, even if it were, the man who can rig a house up like this for a twelve months pay, is a very fortunate fellow. I told you, I would not run you to a farthing’s unnecessary expense, and neither I did. In your position here, in London, it would not do for you to have the same old-fashioned curiosities that served your purpose very well at Berrie Down; besides, the money is not lost, there is the furniture—well kept, it would fetch its cost any day by auction; now tot up those items, and let us see the sum total. Yes; that is just what I made it, running through the account roughly—four thousand six hundred and eleven pounds, seventeen shillings and nine pence.” “Mr. Black! I never had that sum of money,” said Arthur, excitedly. “If you had not money, you had goods,” answered Mr. Black; “but you have had a smartish sum of money too. The pace you have gone at the last twelvemonth has not been a slow one. Those dinners you gave—and the money you spent in town——” “But you said the Company would pay all that.” “So it has; you have your shares and your salary, and your good rent for these premises. I never meant direct payment. The idea is absurd. How would an entry like this sound: “‘Dinner at the Wellington, to six desirable City men,’ or ‘Treating Cadger’s managing clerk to the theatre, with supper after,’ or ‘Stall tickets to the Misses Smithers,’ or ‘Half a sov. to Jenkins’ footman!’ Just bring the thing home, Dudley; think how ridiculous it would sound, and don’t be unreasonable. You have had your penn’orths, and you will have more—besides, it really is this house and furniture, neither of which is likely to run away, that has walked into the money. Think over the matter, will you? any time during the course of the next two months, and let me know what you decide;” and with that, the promoter was airily taking himself out of the room, when “Black!” sharply spoken by his companion, arrested his departure. “I never had this money,” Mr. Dudley repeated. “I never could have had it; where has it gone—what has been done with it?”