"They did; a heap; but in for a penny, in for a pound. There's one comfort; it's all spent on myself. Catch me spending it on anybody else. They cost, altogether--Well, never mind; we're going in for a big thing, ain't we? I ain't particular to a pound or two when the stake's worth it." "You have the heart of a lion!" said Mrs. Pamflett. "What will she think of me, mother? Look at me well; reckon me up." "She can't help thinking as I do, Jeremiah." "She's a ninny if she don't. She won't get another chance like it, I'll bet." "What is that you're carrying, my boy?" "A bouquet. Here, I'll just lift the paper, so that you can see it. Roses, stephanotis, and maidenhair. Now, who'll say I ain't a plucky one? Just wipe this dust off my boots." In her full-hearted admiration Mrs. Pamflett had lost sight of her conversation with Miser Farebrother, and of the presence of Fred Cornwall in the room above; but now, as she carefully wiped Jeremiah's boots, it all came back to her. Bidding him to give her his best attention, she told him everything; he listened to her attentively, and put a good many questions to her when she had done, the most important of which related to his master. "He didn't shy at it, then?" he asked. "No," she replied; "he seemed to take to it kindly." "You're sure he understood you?" "He couldn't be off understanding me; I put it to him pretty plain. All you've got to do is to play your cards well." "I'll do that. When I've got a winning hand I know what to do with it." "Are you pleased with me, Jeremiah?" "Yes; it was a bold stroke; only don't do it again. Let me play my own game. I don't mind telling you something if you'll keep it dark." He paused a moment before continuing. "Do you see my thumb?" He held out his right hand, palm upward, with the thumb arched over it. "I've got the London business like this; I've got Miser Farebrother like this. He's under my thumb, mother, and he doesn't know it. If I left him he'd lose thousands, and if the worst comes to the worst I can put it to him like that in a way he can't mistake." "Don't be rash, Jeremiah," implored Mrs. Pamflett; "be humble with him." "Oh, yes; I'll be humble with him as long as it suits me. Do you think I've been working all these years for nothing? Do you think I've had the office all to myself for nothing? Does _he_ think I didn't take his measure years and years ago, and that I didn't make up my mind what to do?" "Jeremiah! Jeremiah!" cried Mrs. Pamflett, "be careful. He's cunning, he's clever; he can see with his eyes shut."