me more good than all the masters put together, an irrational impulse seized me to pick him up, or go down with him.”
“Hem! Permit me, sir, to have the honour,” said Mr. Grewgious, advancing with extended hand, “for an honour I truly esteem it. I am proud to make your acquaintance. I hope you didn’t take cold. I hope you were not inconvenienced by swallowing too much water. How have you been since?”
It was by no means apparent that Mr. Grewgious knew what he said, though it was very apparent that he meant to say something highly friendly and appreciative.
If Heaven, Rosa thought, had but sent such courage and skill to her poor mother’s aid! And he to have been so slight and young then!
“I don’t wish to be complimented upon it, I thank you; but I think I have an idea,” Mr. Grewgious announced, after taking a jog-trot or two across the room, so unexpected and unaccountable that they had all stared at him, doubtful whether he was choking or had the cramp—“I think I have an idea. I believe I have had the pleasure of seeing Mr. Tartar’s name as tenant of the top set in the house next the top set in the corner?”
“Yes, sir,” returned Mr. Tartar. “You are right so far.”
“I am right so far,” said Mr. Grewgious. “Tick that off;” which he did, with his right thumb on his left. “Might you happen to know the name of your neighbour in the top set on the other side of the party-wall?” coming very close to Mr. Tartar, to lose nothing of his face, in his shortness of sight.
“Landless.”
“Tick that off,” said Mr. Grewgious, taking another trot, and then coming back. “No personal knowledge, I suppose, sir?”