Tom made no other reply than thrusting his tongue into his cheek,
and pointing the feather of his pen towards Nicholas--reminders which
elicited from the fat lady an inquiry, of 'Now, sir, what can we do for
YOU?'

Nicholas briefly replied, that he wanted to know whether there was any
such post to be had, as secretary or amanuensis to a gentleman.

'Any such!' rejoined the mistress; 'a-dozen-such. An't there, Tom?'

'I should think so,' answered that young gentleman; and as he said it,
he winked towards Nicholas, with a degree of familiarity which he,
no doubt, intended for a rather flattering compliment, but with which
Nicholas was most ungratefully disgusted.

Upon reference to the book, it appeared that the dozen secretaryships
had dwindled down to one. Mr Gregsbury, the great member of parliament,
of Manchester Buildings, Westminster, wanted a young man, to keep his
papers and correspondence in order; and Nicholas was exactly the sort of
young man that Mr Gregsbury wanted.

'I don't know what the terms are, as he said he'd settle them himself
with the party,' observed the fat lady; 'but they must be pretty good
ones, because he's a member of parliament.'

Inexperienced as he was, Nicholas did not feel quite assured of the
force of this reasoning, or the justice of this conclusion; but without
troubling himself to question it, he took down the address, and resolved
to wait upon Mr Gregsbury without delay.