world!”
“It would appear so, Jenny, and somewhat suddenly.”
“Where are you going to seek your fortune?” asked Miss Wren.
The old man smiled, but looked about him with a look of having lost his way in life, which did not escape the dolls’ dressmaker.
“Verily, Jenny,” said he, “the question is to the purpose, and more easily asked than answered. But as I have experience of the ready goodwill and good help of those who have given occupation to Lizzie, I think I will seek them out for myself.”
“On foot?” asked Miss Wren, with a chop.
“Ay!” said the old man. “Have I not my staff?”
It was exactly because he had his staff, and presented so quaint an aspect, that she mistrusted his making the journey.
“The best thing you can do,” said Jenny, “for the time being, at all events, is to come home with me, godmother. Nobody’s there but my bad child, and Lizzie’s lodging stands empty.” The old man, when satisfied that no inconvenience could be entailed on anyone by his compliance, readily complied; and the singularly-assorted couple once more went through the streets together.
Now, the bad child having been strictly charged by his parent to remain at home in her absence, of course went out; and, being in the very last stage of mental decrepitude, went out with two objects; firstly, to establish a claim he conceived himself to have upon any licensed victualler living, to be supplied with threepennyworth of rum for nothing; and secondly, to bestow some maudlin remorse on Mr. Eugene Wrayburn, and see what profit came of it. Stumblingly pursuing these