So saying, Mr. Brough folded up the cheque, and shaking hands with Mr.
Roundhand very cordially, got into his carriage-and-four (he always drove
four horses even in the City, where it's so difficult), which was waiting
at the office-door for him.

Bob Swinney used to say that he charged two of the horses to the Company;
but there was never believing half of what that Bob said, he used to
laugh and joke so. I don't know how it was, but I and a gent by the name
of Hoskins (eleventh clerk), who lived together with me in Salisbury
Square, Fleet Street--where we occupied a very genteel two-pair--found
our flute duet rather tiresome that evening, and as it was a very fine
night, strolled out for a walk West End way. When we arrived opposite
Covent Garden Theatre we found ourselves close to the "Globe Tavern," and
recollected Bob Swinney's hospitable invitation. We never fancied that
he had meant the invitation in earnest, but thought we might as well look
in: at any rate there could be no harm in doing so.

There, to be sure, in the back drawing-room, where he said he would be,
we found Bob at the head of a table, and in the midst of a great smoke of
cigars, and eighteen of our gents rattling and banging away at the table
with the bottoms of their glasses.

What a shout they made as we came in! "Hurray!" says Bob, "here's two
more! Two more chairs, Mary, two more tumblers, two more hot waters, and
two more goes of gin! Who would have thought of seeing Tit, in the name
of goodness?"

"Why," said I, "we only came in by the merest chance."