"Must I wait? but I really want it for a particular reason, this evening: I wish you could give it me now--you know you promised; but I don't like putting people in mind of their promises, and I would not ask you about the money, only that I really want it." "Want it!--nonsense: what can you want money for, such a little chap as you? I'll lay you any wager, your _particular_ reason, if the truth was told, is, that you can't resist the tart-woman." "I _can_ resist the tart-woman," cried Oliver proudly; "I have a much better use for my money: but I don't want to boast, neither; only, Holloway, do give me the half-guinea: shall I run and ask somebody to give you two half-guineas for a guinea?" "No, no, I'll not be dunned into paying you. If you had not asked me for it, I should have given it you to-night: but since you could not trust to my honour, you'll please to wait till to-morrow morning." "But I did trust to your honour for a whole month." "A month!--a great while, indeed; then trust to it a day longer; and if you ask me for the money to-morrow, you shan't have it till the next day. I'll teach you not to be such a little dun: nobody, that has any spirit, can bear to be dunned, particularly for such small sums. I thought you had been above such meanness, or, I promise you, I should never have borrowed your half-guinea," added Holloway; and he left his unfortunate creditor to reflect upon the new ideas of _meanness_ and _spirit_, which had been thus artfully thrown out. Oliver was roused from his reflections by his friend Howard. "Mr. Russell is ready to go with us to the gardener's again," said Howard: "have you a mind to come?" "A great mind; but I am ashamed, for I've not got my half-guinea which I lent." Here his newly acquired fear of meanness checked Oliver, and without complaining of his creditor's want of punctuality, he added, "but I should like to see the poor woman though, for all that." They set out, but stopped in their way at a bookseller's, where Howard inquired for that essay of Dr. Franklin on smoky chimneys, which he was impatient to see. This bookseller was well acquainted with Mr. Russell. Howard had promised to give the bookseller the translation of the little French book which we formerly mentioned; and the bookseller, on his part, was very obliging in furnishing Howard with any books he wanted. Howard was deep in the essay on smoky chimneys, and examining the references in the print belonging to it, whilst Mr. Russell was looking over the prints in the Encyclopedia, with little Oliver. They were all so intent upon what they were about, that they did not perceive the entrance of Holloway and Mr. Supine. Mr. Supine called in merely to see what Mr. Russell could be looking at, with so much appearance of interest. The indolent are always curious, though they will not always exert themselves, even to gratify their curiosity.