"’Tis mere forgetfulness, I am sure, Sherry. He has mislaid the paper, I suspect, and his mind being filled with weightier matters, has forgotten that even so insignificant a person as myself exists." "’Tis my belief he never did a kindness to man, woman, or child in all his born days. Why, all the chairmen and hackney coachmen know un; ay, and madam his duchess too. My lady will haggle with an oyster-wench over a ha’penny, and the only thing my lord gives away for nowt is his smile. Hang dukes and duchesses, say I!" "Well, Sherry, I can’t gainsay you, because I don’t know. We’ll give him three days’ grace, and then——" He sighed. The world looked black to him. He knew no trade, had practised no art, had no means to enter a profession. He turned over in his mind the possible openings. He could not apprentice himself to a merchant or handicraftsman, for that needed money. He might perhaps get a clerkship in a goldsmith’s or a warehouse; Sir Godfrey Fanshawe, no doubt, would vouch for his respectability! He almost envied the footmen of gentlemen of quality, who wore a livery, earned six pounds a year, and a crown a week extra for gloves and powder. He writhed on his sleepless bed that night as he contrasted his present circumstances with his former prospects and his recent imaginings. A clergyman,—an officer of the Queen’s, forsooth! he was a pauper, a beggar, with nothing but his health and his wits. Then he rated himself for his despondency. "Fancy snivelling," he said to himself, "because a duke hasn’t the grace or the time to remember a promise! What would my father think of me? Here have I wasted precious time waiting on a duke’s pleasure when I might have been turning the weeks to some profit. And I was too proud to accept the Dutchman’s friendly offer. Egad, I’ll go to him on Monday and beg him to give me employment; sink my pride for good and all."