"Deceased!" cried Dick.

"Deceased. And by the terms of her will, you have fallen into an annuity
of one hundred and fifty pounds a year; I think I may congratulate you
upon that."

"Sir," said Dick, sobbing and laughing together, "you may. For, please
God, we'll make a scholar of the poor Marchioness yet. And she shall
walk in silk attire, and siller have to spare, or may I never rise from
this bed again!"

Mr. Swiveller, recovering very slowly from his illness, even with the
strong tonic of his good fortune, and entering into the receipt of his
annuity, bought for the Marchioness a handsome stock of clothes, and put
her to school forthwith, in redemption of the vow he had made upon his
fevered bed.

After casting about for some time for a name which should be worthy of
her, he decided in favor of Sophronia Sphynx, as being euphonious and
genteel, and, furthermore, indicative of mystery. Under this title the
Marchioness repaired in tears to the school of his selection, from
which, as she soon distanced all competitors, she was removed before the
lapse of many quarters to one of a higher grade. It is but bare justice
to Mr. Swiveller to say that although the expense of her education kept
him in straightened circumstances for half-a-dozen years, he never
slackened in his zeal, and always held himself sufficiently repaid by
the accounts he heard of her advancement.

In a word, Mr. Swiveller kept the Marchioness at this establishment