"They sometimes go to see Mr. Quilp," said the small servant with a shrewd look, "they go to a many places, bless you." "Is Mr. Brass a wunner?" said Dick. "Not half what Miss Sally is, he isn't," replied the small servant, shaking her head. "Bless you, he'd never do anything without her." "Oh! He wouldn't, wouldn't he?" said Dick. "Miss Sally keeps him in such order," said the small servant; "he always asks her advice, he does; and he catches it sometimes. Bless you, you wouldn't believe how much he catches it." "I suppose," said Dick, "that they consult together a good deal, and about a great many people--about me, for instance, sometimes, eh?" The Marchioness nodded amazingly. "Complimentary?" said Mr. Swiveller. The Marchioness changed the motion of her head, which had not yet left off nodding, and suddenly began to shake it from side to side with vehemence which threatened to dislocate her neck. "Humph!" Dick muttered. "Would it be any breach of confidence, Marchioness, to relate what they say of the humble individual who has now the honor to--?" "Miss Sally says you're a funny chap," replied his friend. "Well, Marchioness," said Mr. Swiveller, "that's not uncomplimentary. Merriment, Marchioness, is not a bad or degrading quality. Old King Cole was him a merry old soul, if we may put any faith in the pages of history." "But she says," pursued his companion, "that you an't to be trusted." "Why, really, Marchioness," said Mr. Swiveller, thoughtfully, "several ladies and gentlemen--not exactly professional persons, but tradespeople, ma'am, tradespeople--have made the same remark. The obscure citizen who keeps the hotel over the way, inclined strongly to that opinion to-night when I ordered him to prepare the banquet. It's a popular prejudice, Marchioness; and yet I am sure I don't know why, for I have been trusted in my time to a considerable amount, and I can safely say that I never forsook my trust until it deserted me--never. Mr. Brass is of the same opinion, I suppose?" His friend nodded again, with a cunning look which seemed to hint that Mr. Brass held stronger opinions on the subject than his sister; and seeming to recollect herself, added imploringly, "But don't you ever tell upon me, or I shall be beat to death." "Marchioness," said Mr. Swiveller, rising, "the word of a gentleman is as good as his bond--sometimes better; as in the present case, where his bond might prove but a doubtful sort of security. I am your friend, and I hope we shall play many more rubbers together in this same saloon. But, Marchioness," added Richard, stopping in his way to the door, and wheeling slowly round upon the small servant, who was following with the candle; "it occurs to me that you must be in the constant habit of airing your eye at keyholes, to know all this."