"We'll talk of this matter, sir," says Mr. Shum, looking as high
and mighty as an alderman. "Gals, go up stairs with your dear
mamma."--And they all trooped up again, and so the skrimmage ended.

You may be sure that old Shum was not very sorry to get a husband
for his daughter Mary, for the old creatur loved her better than
all the pack which had been brought him or born to him by Mrs.
Buckmaster. But, strange to say, when he came to talk of
settlements and so forth, not a word would my master answer. He
said he made four hundred a year reglar--he wouldn't tell how--but
Mary, if she married him, must share all that he had, and ask no
questions; only this he would say, as he'd said before, that he was
a honest man.

They were married in a few days, and took a very genteel house at
Islington; but still my master went away to business, and nobody
knew where. Who could he be?


CHAPTER III.


If ever a young kipple in the middlin classes began life with a
chance of happiness, it was Mr. and Mrs. Frederic Altamont. There
house at Cannon Row, Islington, was as comfortable as house could
be. Carpited from top to to; pore's rates small; furnitur elygant;
and three deomestix: of which I, in course, was one. My life
wasn't so easy as in Mr. A.'s bachelor days; but, what then? The
three W's is my maxum: plenty of work, plenty of wittles, and
plenty of wages. Altamont kep his gig no longer, but went to the