"I don't know. Don't get anything in for me; I shall most probably dine at the club," said Horace; and Mrs. Rapkin, who had a confirmed belief that all clubs were hotbeds of vice and extravagance, sniffed disapproval. "By the way," he added, "if a kind of brass pot is sent here, it's all right. I bought it at a sale yesterday. Be careful how you handle it--it's rather old." "There _was_ a vawse come late last night, sir; I don't know if it's that, it's old-fashioned enough." "Then will you bring it up at once, please? I want to see it." Mrs. Rapkin retired, to reappear presently with the brass bottle. "I thought you'd have noticed it when you come in last night, sir," she explained, "for I stood it in the corner, and when I see it this morning it was layin' o' one side and looking that dirty and disrespectable I took it down to give it a good clean, which it wanted it." It certainly looked rather the better for it, and the marks or scratches on the cap were more distinguishable, but Horace was somewhat disconcerted to find that part of his dream was true--the bottle had been there. "I hope I've done nothing wrong," said Mrs. Rapkin, observing his expression; "I only used a little warm ale to it, which is a capital thing for brass-work, and gave it a scrub with 'Vitrolia' soap--but it would take more than that to get all the muck off of it." "It is all right, so long as you didn't try to get the top off," said Horace. "Why, the top _was_ off it, sir. I thought you'd done it with the 'ammer and chisel when you got 'ome," said his landlady, staring. "I found them 'ere on the carpet." Horace started. Then _that_ part was true, too! "Oh, ah," he said, "I believe I did. I'd forgotten. That reminds me. Haven't you let the room above to--to an Oriental gentleman--a native, you know--wears a green turban?" "That I most certainly 'ave _not_, Mr. Ventimore," said Mrs. Rapkin, with emphasis, "nor wouldn't. Not if his turbin was all the colours of the rainbow--for I don't 'old with such. Why, there was Rapkin's own sister-in-law let her parlour floor to a Horiental--a Parsee _he_ was, or _one_ o' them Hafrican tribes--and reason she 'ad to repent of it, for all his gold spectacles! Whatever made you fancy I should let to a blackamoor?" "Oh, I thought I saw somebody about--er--answering that description, and I wondered if----" "Never in _this_ 'ouse, sir. Mrs. Steggars, next door but one, might let to such, for all I can say to the contrary, not being what you might call particular, and her rooms more suitable to savage notions--but I've enough on _my_ hands, Mr. Ventimore, attending to you--not keeping a girl to do the waiting, as why should I while I'm well able to do it better myself?" As soon as she relieved him of her presence, he examined the bottle: there was nothing whatever inside it, which disposed of all the hopes he had entertained from that quarter.