Part 46 (1/2)

Mrs b.u.t.t had been forewarned of the impending visit, and, although she confessed to some uncomfortable feelings in respect of infection and dirt, received him with a gracious air.

”You've come to breakfast, I understand?”

”Well, I believe I 'ave,” answered the little man, with an involuntary glance at his dilapidated clothes; ”'avin' been inwited--unless,” he added, somewhat doubtfully, ”the inwite came in a dream.”

”You may go in and clear up that point for yourself,” said the landlady, as she ushered the poor man into the parlour, where he was almost startled to find an amiable gentleman waiting to receive him.

”Come along, Zook, I like punctuality. Are you hungry?”

”'Ungry as a 'awk, sir,” replied Zook, glancing at the table and rubbing his hands, for there entered his nostrils delicious odours, the causes of which very seldom entered his throat. ”W'y, sir, I _know'd_ you was a gent, from the wery first!”

”I have at least entered my native sh.e.l.l,” said Charlie, with a laugh.

”Sit down. We've no time to waste. Now what'll you have? Coffee, tea, pork-sausage, ham and egg, b.u.t.tered toast, hot rolls. Just help yourself, and fancy you're in the lodging-house at your own table.”

”Well, sir, that _would_ be a stretch o' fancy that would strain me a'most to the bustin' p'int. Coffee, if you please. Oh yes, sugar an'

milk _in course_. I never let slip a chance as I knows on. W'ich bread? well, 'ot rolls is temptin', but I allers 'ad a weakness for sappy things, so 'ot b.u.t.tered toast--if you can spare it.”

”Spare it, my good man!” said Charlie, laughing. ”There's a whole loaf in the kitchen and pounds of b.u.t.ter when you've finished this, not to mention the shops round the corner.”

It was a more gratifying treat to Charlie than he had expected, to see this poor man eat to his heart's content of viands which he so thoroughly appreciated and so rarely enjoyed. What Zook himself felt, it is impossible for well-to-do folk to conceive, or an ordinary pen to describe; but, as he sat there, opposite to his big friend and champion, stowing away the good things with zest and devotion of purpose, it was easy to believe that his watery eyes were charged with the tears of grat.i.tude, as well as with those of a chronic cold to which he was subject.

Breakfast over, they started off in quest of the old woman with teetotal proclivities.

”How did you come to know her?” asked Charlie, as they went along.

”Through a 'ouse in the city as I was connected with afore I got run over an' lamed. They used to send me with parcels to this old 'ooman.

In course I didn't know for sartin' w'at was in the parcels, but 'avin'

a nose, you see, an' bein' able to smell, I guessed that it was a compound o' wittles an' wursted work.”

”A strange compound, Zook.”

”Well, they wasn't 'zactly compounded--they was sometimes the one an'

sometimes the other; never mixed to my knowledge.”

”What house was it that sent you?”

”Withers and Company.”

”Indeed!” exclaimed Charlie in surprise. ”I know the house well. The head of it is a well-known philanthropist. How came you to leave them?

They never would have allowed an old servant to come to your pa.s.s-- unless, indeed, he was--”

”A fool, sir, or wuss,” interrupted Zook; ”an' that's just what I was.

I runned away from 'em, sir, an' I've been ashamed to go back since.

But that's 'ow I come to know old Missis Mag, an' it's down 'ere she lives.”

They turned into a narrow pa.s.sage which led to a small court at the back of a ma.s.s of miserable buildings, and here they found the residence of the old woman.

”By the way, Zook, what's her name?” asked Charlie.