“I’ll keep about the lobby for an hour or so,” says Brewer, with a deeply mysterious countenance, “and if things look well, I won’t come back, but will order my cab for nine in the morning.”

“You couldn’t do better,” says Podsnap.

Veneering expresses his inability ever to acknowledge this last service. Tears stand in Mrs. Veneering’s affectionate eyes. Boots shows envy, loses ground, and is regarded as possessing a second-rate mind. They all crowd to the door, to see Brewer off. Brewer says to his driver, “Now, is your horse pretty fresh?” eyeing the animal with critical scrutiny. Driver says he’s as fresh as butter. “Put him along then,” says Brewer; “House of Commons.” Driver darts up, Brewer leaps in, they cheer him as he departs, and Mr. Podsnap says, “Mark my words, sir. That’s a man of resource; that’s a man to make his way in life.”