"But where did you see it, Matt--where was it?" exclaimed Septimus, inking his face in his excitement, and totally destroying his last hour's work. "Why, sir, no farther off than at my lodgings," cried Matt triumphantly. "I did mean to be of use to you if I could, and I've lived to do it, sir, and I'm thankful; but come along, sir--come along. I'm weak and poorly yet, and there seems to be a deal of water collected in my system--a sort of dropsy, you know; and it all flies to my eyes on the least provocation, and comes dripping out like that, just as if I was a great gal, and cried, d'ye see?" There was a tear in Septimus Hardon's eye as he warmly wrung the old man's hand, and ten minutes after they were standing in Lower Series-- place, with Matt smiling grimly at a freshly-painted set of skeleton old bone letters upon a glossy-black board, announcing "Isaac Gross, Dealer in Marine-stores;" but that was the only alteration visible, for Isaac and the stout lady occupied the same places as of yore, and were at that very moment engaged in an affectionate, smiling game of bo-peep. "Might have waited for me to dance at the wedding," muttered Matt. But there had been very little dancing at the said wedding; while the trip necessary upon such occasions was one made to the Rye House, where Isaac's attention was principally taken up by the jack-boot shown amongst the curiosities--a boot which filled his imagination for days after, as he sighed and thought of the evanescent nature of his own manufacture. The greeting was warm on both sides, Isaac smiling at a quicker rate than had ever before been known. But the visitors meant business, and Matt exclaimed: "Now, Ike, we want to go over the waste-paper." Matt was outside as he spoke, and then Mrs Gross, whose head had been stretched out to listen, found that what had been her property was in question, so she cried, "Stop!" and waddled from her seat to where Matt stood, seized him by the arm, and waddled him into Isaac's workshop, from whence she waddled him into the back-parlour, where his bed, now the only one in the room, was neatly made up, and the place somewhat tidier than of yore, though the waste-paper heap was bigger than ever. "Now," said Mrs Gross, with a very fat smile and a knowing twinkle of her eye as she sank her voice to a whisper, "Is it deeds?" and then she looked at Isaac as if for approbation, that gentleman having followed them into the room and being engaged in vain endeavours to thrust a very large finger into his very small pipe-bowl.