his room, and espied Mr. Garland, Mr. Abel, and two other gentlemen
talking earnestly with the Marchioness. Upon perceiving the invalid to
be awake, Mr. Garland stretched out his hand, and inquired how Mr.
Swiveller felt; adding

"And what can we do for you?"

"If you could make the Marchioness yonder, a Marchioness in real, sober
earnest," returned Dick, "I'd thank you to get it done offhand. But as
you can't, the question is, what is it best to do for Kit?"

Gathering around Mr. Swiveller's bedside, the group of gentlemen then
proceeded to discuss in detail all the evidence against Sampson Brass,
as contained in the confession of the Marchioness, and what course was
wisest to pursue in the matter. After which the gentlemen took their
leaves for a time, or Richard Swiveller must assuredly have been driven
into another fever, in consequence of having entered into such an
exciting discussion.

Mr. Abel alone remained behind, very often looking at his watch and the
room-door, until the reason of his watchfulness was disclosed when Mr.
Swiveller was roused from a short nap by the delivery at his door of a
mighty hamper, which, being opened, disgorged such treasures of tea, and
coffee, and wine, and rusk, and oranges, and grapes, and fowls, and
calvesfoot jelly, and other delicate restoratives, that the small
servant stood rooted to the spot, with her mouth and eyes watering in
unison, and her power of speech quite gone. With the hamper appeared
also a nice old lady, who bustled about on tiptoe, began to make
chicken-broth, and peel oranges for the sick man, and to ply the small
servant with glasses of wine, and choice bits of everything. The whole