"Yes, sir; Mr Iving said that he had just received a letter from your correspondent, and that he wished to know if the little girl was well; I told him that she was. Mr Iving laid the letter down on the desk, and I read the post-mark, Dublin." "Dublin," replied I. "I should like to find out who Melchior is--and so I will as soon as I can." "Well, sir, I have not finished my story. Mr Iving said, `My correspondent wishes to know whether the education of the little girl is attended to?' `Yes,' replied I, `it is.' `Is she at school?' `Yes, she has been at school ever since we have been in London.' `Where is she at school?' inquired he. Now, sir, as I never was asked that question by him before, I did not know whether I ought to give an answer, so I replied, `that I did not know.' `You know whether she is in London or not, do you not?' `How should I?' replied I, `master had put her to school before I put on his liveries.' `Does he never go to see her?' inquired he. `I suppose so,' said I. `Then you really know nothing about it?--then look you, my lad, I am anxious to find out where she is at school, and the name of the people, and if you will find out the direction for me, it will be money in your pocket, that's all.' `Um,' replied I, `but how much?' `Why, more than you think for, my man, it will be a ten-pound note.' `That alters the case,' replied I; `now I think again, I have an idea that I do remember seeing her address on a letter my master wrote to her.' `Ay,' replied Mr Iving, `it's astonishing how money sharpens the memory. I'll keep to my bargain; give me the address, and here's the ten-pound note.' `I'm afraid that my master will be angry,' said I, as if I did not much like to tell him. `Your master will never know anything about it, and you may serve a long time before he gives you a ten-pound note above your wages.' `That's very true,' said I, `sarvice is no inheritance. Well, then, give me the money, and I'll write it down.'" "And did you give it?" interrupted I. "Stop a moment, sir, and you shall hear. I wrote down the address of that large school at Kensington, which we pass when we go to Mr Aubrey White's." "What that tremendous large board with yellow letters--Mrs Let--what is it?" "Mrs Lipscombe's seminary--I always read the board every time I go up and down. I gave him the address, Miss Johnson, at Mrs Lipscombe's seminary, Kensington. Well--and here's the ten-pound note, sir, which I have fairly earned." "Fairly earned, Tim?" "Yes, fairly earned; for it's all fair to cheat those who would cheat you." "I cannot altogether agree with you on that point, Tim, but it certainly is no more than they deserve; but this is matter for reflection. Why should Melchior wish to find out her address without my knowledge?-- depend upon it, there is something wrong." "That's what I said to myself coming home; and I made up my mind, that, for some reason or another, he wishes to regain possession of her."