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words were uttered in too low a tone to reach the ears of the young men. Mr. Swiveller suggested the propriety of an immediate departure, when the door opened, and the child herself appeared.

      3

      The child was followed by an elderly man, quite a dwarf, though his head and face were large enough for the body of a giant. His black eyes were restless, sly, and cunning; his complexion was one of that kind which never looks clean. But the most terrible was his ghastly smile, which revealed the few discoloured fangs that were yet scattered in his mouth, and gave him the aspect of[13] a dog. His dress consisted of a large high-crowned hat, a worn dark suit, a pair of capacious shoes, and a dirty white neckerchief. His hair was black, cut short and straight upon his temples[14]. His hands were very dirty; his finger-nails were crooked, long, and yellow.

      “Ah!” said the dwarf, “that should be your grandson, neighbour!”

      “He is,” replied the old man.

      “And that?” said the dwarf, pointing to Dick Swiveller.

      “Some friend of his, as welcome here as he,” said the old man.

      “Well, Nelly,” said the young fellow aloud. “Do they teach you to hate me, eh?”

      “No, no. Oh, no!” cried the child.

      “To love me, perhaps?” pursued her brother with a sneer.

      “To do neither. They never speak to me about you. Indeed they never do. But I love you dearly, Fred,” said the child.

      “No doubt!”

      “I do indeed, and always will,” the child repeated with great emotion, “but if you would leave off vexing him and making him unhappy, then I could love you more.”

      “I see!” said the young man: “There get you away now you have said your lesson.”

      Fred remained silent, the girl entered her little room and closed the door. Then he turned to the dwarf, and said abruptly:

      “Listen, Mr…”

      “Meaning me?[15]“ returned the dwarf. “Daniel Quilp[16] is my name. You must remember. It’s not a long one: Daniel Quilp.”

      “Listen, Mr. Quilp, then,” pursued the other. “You have some influence with my grandfather there.”

      “Some,” said Mr. Quilp emphatically.

      “And know about a few of his mysteries and secrets.”

      “A few,” replied Quilp, with equal dryness.

      “Then let me tell him, through you, that I will come into and go out of this place as often as I like, so long as he keeps Nell here. Let him say so. I will see her when I want. That’s my point. I came here today to see her, and I’ll come here again fifty times with the same object and always with the same success. I have done so, and now my visit’s ended. Come, Dick.”

      Fred and Dick left.

      The dwarf appeared quite horrible, with his monstrous head and little body, as he rubbed his hands slowly round, and round, and round again with something fantastic, dropping his shaggy brows and cocking his chin in the air.

      “Here,” he said, putting his hand into his breast[17]; “I brought it myself, this gold is too large and heavy for Nell to carry in her bag. I would like to know in what good investment all these gold sinks. But you are a deep man, and keep your secret close.”

      “My secret!” said the other with a haggard look. “Yes, you’re right I keep it close very close.”

      He said no more, but, taking the money, turned away with a slow uncertain step, and pressed his hand upon his head. The dwarf went away.

      Nell brought some needle-work[18] to the table, and sat by the old man’s side. The old man laid his hand on hers, and spoke aloud.

      “Nell,” he said; “there must be good fortune for you I do not ask it for myself, but for you only. It will come at last!”

      The girl looked cheerfully into his face, but made no answer.

      4

      Mr. and Mrs. Quilp resided on Tower Hill[19]. Mr. Quilp’s occupations were numerous. He collected the rents of whole colonies of filthy streets and alleys by the water-side, advanced money to the seamen and petty officers of merchant vessels, and made appointments with men in glazed hats and round jackets[20] pretty well every day. On the southern side of the river was a small rat-infested[21] dreary yard called “Quilp’s Wharf,” in which were a little wooden house. There were nearby a few fragments of rusty anchors; several large iron rings; some piles of rotten wood; and two or three heaps of old sheet copper, crumpled, cracked, and battered. On Quilp’s Wharf, Daniel Quilp was a ship-breaker. The dwarfs lodging on Tower Hill had a sleeping-closet for Mrs. Quilp’s mother, who resided with the couple.

      That day besides these ladies there were present some half-dozen ladies of the neighbourhood who had come just about tea-time. The ladies felt an inclination to talk and linger.

      A stout lady opened the inquired, with an air of great concern and sympathy, how Mr. Quilp was; whereunto Mr. Quilp’s wife’s mother replied sharply,

      “Oh! he is well enough, ill weeds are sure to thrive[22].”

      All the ladies then sighed in concert, shook their heads gravely, and looked at Mrs. Quilp as at a martyr.

      Poor Mrs. Quilp coloured, and smiled. Suddenly Daniel Quilp himself was observed to be in the room, looking on and listening with profound attention.

      “Go on, ladies, go on,” said Daniel. “Mrs. Quilp, pray ask the ladies to stop to supper.”

      “I didn’t ask them to tea, Quilp,” stammered his wife. “It’s quite an accident.”

      “So much the better[23], Mrs. Quilp: these accidental parties are always the pleasantest,” said the dwarf, rubbing his hands very hard. “What? Not going, ladies? You are not going, surely?”

      “And why not stop to supper, Quilp,” said the old lady, “if my daughter had a mind? There’s nothing dishonest or wrong in a supper, I hope?”

      “Surely not,” returned the dwarf. “Why should there be?”

      “My daughter’s your wife, Mr. Quilp, certainly,” said the old lady.

      “So she is, certainly. So she is,” observed the dwarf.

      “And she has a right to do as she likes, I hope, Quilp,” said the old lady trembling.

      “Hope she has! Oh! Don’t you know she has? My dear,” said the dwarf, turning round and addressing his wife, “why don’t you always imitate your mother, my dear? She’s the ornament of her sex, your father said so every day of his life, I am sure he did.”

      “Her father was a blessed man, Quilp, and worth twenty thousand of some people, twenty hundred million thousand.”

      “I dare say,” remarked the dwarf, “he was a blessed man then; but I’m sure he is now. It was a happy release. I believe he had suffered a long time?”

      The guests went down-stairs. Quilp’s wife sat trembling in a corner with her eyes fixed upon the ground, the little man planted himself before her, at some distance, and folding

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