“Mr. Brown,” replied the waiter. “And who or what is Mr. Brown?” asked our hero. Before the waiter could reply, Mr. Brown returned, with a large bandbox, carefully enveloped in a blue handkerchief. “You come from ----, sir?” said Mr. Brown, quietly seating himself at the same table as Linden. “No, sir, I do not.” “From ----, then?” “No, sir,--from W----.” “W----?--ay--well. I knew a lady with a name very like W---- (the late Lady Waddilove) extremely well. I made her some valuable presents: her ladyship was very sensible of it.” “I don’t doubt it, sir,” replied Clarence; “such instances of general beneficence rarely occur!” “I have some magnificent relics of her ladyship in this box,” returned Mr. Brown. “Really! then she was no less generous than yourself, I presume?” “Yes, her ladyship was remarkably generous. About a week before she died (the late Lady Waddilove was quite sensible of her danger), she called me to her,--‘Brown,’ said she, ‘you are a good creature; I have had my most valuable things from you. I am not ungrateful: I will leave you--my maid! She is as clever as you are and as good.’ I took the hint, sir, and married. It was an excellent bargain. My wife is a charming woman; she entirely fitted up Mrs. Minden’s wardrobe and I furnished the house. Mrs. Minden was greatly indebted to us.” “Heaven help me!” thought Clarence, “the man is certainly mad.” The waiter entered with the dinner; and Mr. Brown, who seemed to have a delicate aversion to any conversation in the presence of the Ganymede of the Holborn tavern, immediately ceased his communications; meanwhile, Clarence took the opportunity to survey him more minutely than he had hitherto done.