“Well, Wickfield!” said my aunt; and he looked up at her for the first time. “I have been telling your daughter how well I have been disposing of my money for myself, because I couldn’t trust it to you, as you were growing rusty in business matters. We have been taking counsel together, and getting on very well, all things considered. Agnes is worth the whole firm, in my opinion.”

“If I may ’umbly make the remark,” said Uriah Heep, with a writhe, “I fully agree with Miss Betsey Trotwood, and should be only too ’appy if Miss Agnes was a partner.”

“You’re a partner yourself, you know,” returned my aunt, “and that’s about enough for you, I expect. How do you find yourself, sir?”

In acknowledgement of this question, addressed to him with extraordinary curtness, Mr. Heep, uncomfortably clutching the blue bag he carried, replied that he was pretty well, he thanked my aunt, and hoped she was the same.