Truly he was a man made of money--money was the principle of his being, for with every note he paid away a portion of his life. Poor Mr. Carraway was ruined through no fault of his own. Jogtrot Hall was sold, and Jericho bought it. Thirty thousand pounds' worth of flesh had he sacrificed to buy to himself a country mansion. He had become a member of Parliament, and at the same time become so thin that his tailor declared, "It's like measuring a penknife for a sheath." "Why," said the tailor to his wife, "he isn't a man at all, but a cotton-pod. He can't have no more stomach than a 'bacco-pipe." In fact, it was the growing belief of a large circle that Jericho was no flesh, no man, at all. "He was made up of coats," ran the rumour, "like an onion." The insolence that is sometimes the accompaniment of great riches took full possession of Mr. Jericho, and he found an occasion to treat Colonel Bones to a specimen of it. Almost without provocation the Colonel was called "a toad-eater! a bone-picking pauper!" etc. For this insult the Colonel declared he would have Mr. Jericho's blood, and in pursuance of that object he sent the millionaire a challenge. Jericho fought very hard to avoid fighting, but his second, Mr. Candytuft, prevailed, and the belligerents met in Battersea Fields. Mr. Commissioner Thrush waited upon the angry Colonel, and the celebrated Dr. Dodo was there to attend to the wounded. The seconds confer; the men are placed. Candytuft looked at them with an eye of admiration. The signal was given. "Colonel Bones fires, and his ball goes clear through Jericho's bosom, knocking off a button in its passage, and striking itself flat against a pile of bricks." "'A dead man!' cried the doctor, running to Jericho. "'My friend,' exclaimed Candytuft, 'have you made your will?' "'Eh? What's the matter?' said Jericho. "'Matter!' exclaimed Dr. Dodo, and he pointed his cane to the hole in the front of Jericho's coat, immediately over the region of his heart. 'Matter! It's the first time I ever heard a man with a bullet clean through his breast ask--What's the matter!'" The Colonel's ball had passed through Jericho's bank-note-paper breast, and Jericho lived and moved and was none the worse for it. Jericho fired in the air. An ugly atmosphere was collecting about Mr. Jericho, and he was aware of it. "His own family saw in him a man of mysterious attributes. Monica turned pale at the smallest courtesy of her parent, and Agatha, suddenly meeting him on the staircase, squealed and ran away as from a fiend. "Mr. Jericho went on a rejoicing conqueror. His huge town mansion, burning with gold--massive, rich, and gorgeous; for the Man of Money was far the most substantial, the most potent development of his creed, whereby to awe and oppress his worshippers----" Mrs. Jericho had made up her mind that it was time her daughters were "settled in life, and she said as much to her husband."