me to receive into an apartment in the rear of my house, which is at present unoccupied—and is, in short, to be let as a—in short,” said the stranger, with a smile and in a burst of confidence, “as a bedroom—the young beginner whom I have now the pleasure to—” and the stranger waved his hand, and settled his chin in his shirt-collar.
“This is Mr. Micawber,” said Mr. Quinion to me.
“Ahem!” said the stranger, “that is my name.”
“ Mr. Micawber,” said Mr. Quinion, “is known to Mr. Murdstone. He takes orders for us on commission, when he can get any. He has been written to by Mr. Murdstone, on the subject of your lodgings, and he will receive you as a lodger.”
“My address,” said Mr. Micawber, “is Windsor Terrace, City Road. I—in short,” said Mr. Micawber, with the same genteel air, and in another burst of confidence—“I live there.”
I made him a bow.
“Under the impression,” said Mr. Micawber, “that your peregrinations in this metropolis have not as yet been extensive, and that you might have some difficulty in penetrating the arcana of the Modern Babylon in the direction of the City Road—in short,” said Mr. Micawber, in another burst of confidence, “that you might lose yourself—I shall be happy to call this evening, and install you in the knowledge of the nearest way.”
I thanked him with all my heart, for it was friendly in him to offer to take that trouble.
“At what hour,” said Mr. Micawber, “shall I—”
“At about eight,” said Mr. Quinion.