the room, uttered an exclamation of surprise which roused him.

'Oh! Is this the missis?' inquired Scaley.

'It is Madame Mantalini,' said Kate.

'Then,' said Mr Scaley, producing a small document from his pocket and
unfolding it very slowly, 'this is a writ of execution, and if it's not
conwenient to settle we'll go over the house at wunst, please, and take
the inwentory.'

Poor Madame Mantalini wrung her hands for grief, and rung the bell
for her husband; which done, she fell into a chair and a fainting fit,
simultaneously. The professional gentlemen, however, were not at all
discomposed by this event, for Mr Scaley, leaning upon a stand on which
a handsome dress was displayed (so that his shoulders appeared above it,
in nearly the same manner as the shoulders of the lady for whom it was
designed would have done if she had had it on), pushed his hat on one
side and scratched his head with perfect unconcern, while his friend
Mr Tix, taking that opportunity for a general survey of the apartment
preparatory to entering on business, stood with his inventory-book under
his arm and his hat in his hand, mentally occupied in putting a price
upon every object within his range of vision.

Such was the posture of affairs when Mr Mantalini hurried in; and as
that distinguished specimen had had a pretty extensive intercourse with
Mr Scaley's fraternity in his bachelor days, and was, besides, very
far from being taken by surprise on the present agitating occasion, he
merely shrugged his shoulders, thrust his hands down to the bottom of
his pockets, elevated his eyebrows, whistled a bar or two, swore an oath