So much was I vexed at this idea, that Sir Roland Towers-Twentifold valued me, only as a flying puppet, a machine to be started from a spiral spring, or a little boy's coloured balloon, that I assure you, although I was on a bed soft as a dew-cloud--for we did not lie upon cast-iron yet--scarcely a wink of sleep came near me, without being scattered into a fire-wheel of dreams. If it appeared to me a small thing--as it did in modest moments--that I should be brought from London, like a tailor to take orders, or a fellow to exhibit Punch, and Judy--yet how could I reconcile it with the fitness of things, that Professor Megalow should be tempted, with the very biggest dragon for his bait, to come down, upon the really ignoble errand of flipping me up, like a pith-ball of elder, between the plates positive and negative. At first I thought of consulting him, as to what I should do in the morning; for who else could advise me, so kindly, or so well? But I saw that his counsel was not to be had, without a disclosure of everything; and I had no right to tell him of his own "mission" here. So that on the whole, I was compelled to act, (as I nearly always find to be the case with me) by the dim light only of my own perceptions. "I have no right to make any scene," I thought; "neither is it possible for me to leave abruptly, without giving reason; Lady Twentifold has been most wonderfully kind to me, ever since she first saw me; and she can have no paltry political motive, such as this one-idea'd Roland has. And then there is beautiful Laura, sweet Laura--I suppose I ought to call her Miss Twentifold, but consider the years I have known her--there never has been anybody like her, since the days of Paradise, and how dreadfully rude I should appear to her! Of course, I must never think of her at all, any more than I might of the pole-star. Still, I should like her to think of me, if she ever deigns to do it, with all kindness and good-will. Ah, ha! Lack is the luck! I am a most unhappy fellow. My mother said once, that I had no right to be born; and who should know so well as she?" But before I had quite finished "doing my hair"--as the ladies express it, and mine very often took almost as long as a lady's to do, because of there being so much of it,--Sir Roland came thumping my dressing-room door, and with his usual impetuosity, rushed in. "Tommy, shake hands, like a man," he exclaimed, "or I'll pull all your hair out of trim again. You cut up, as rough as a clinker, last night; the first time I ever saw you out of temper. However, a new hope sprang up in my breast. Do you know what you did, as you went along the passage?" "No. I remember nothing, except that I said to myself--'I am not a machine, and I won't be treated as a machine. If he only wants me as a Jack in the box----'"