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and that Miss Sally would be 'a much better fellow' if she forbore to

aggravate him. To this compliment Miss Sally replied, that she had a

relish for the amusement, and had no intention to forego its

gratification. Mr Brass not caring, as it seemed, to pursue the

subject any further, they both plied their pens at a great pace, and

there the discussion ended.

While they were thus employed, the window was suddenly darkened, as by

some person standing close against it. As Mr Brass and Miss Sally

looked up to ascertain the cause, the top sash was nimbly lowered from

without, and Quilp thrust in his head.

'Hallo!' he said, standing on tip-toe on the window-sill, and looking

down into the room. 'Is there anybody at home? Is there any of the

Devil's ware here? Is Brass at a premium, eh?'

'Ha, ha, ha!' laughed the lawyer in an affected ecstasy. 'Oh, very

good, Sir! Oh, very good indeed! Quite eccentric! Dear me, what

humour he has!'

'Is that my Sally?' croaked the dwarf, ogling the fair Miss Brass. 'Is

it Justice with the bandage off her eyes, and without the sword and

scales? Is it the Strong Arm of the Law? Is it the Virgin of Bevis?'

'What an amazing flow of spirits!' cried Brass. 'Upon my word, it's

quite extraordinary!'

'Open the door,' said Quilp, 'I've got him here. Such a clerk for you,

Brass, such a prize, such an ace of trumps. Be quick and open the

door, or if there's another lawyer near and he should happen to look

out of window, he'll snap him up before your eyes, he will.'

It is probable that the loss of the phoenix of clerks, even to a rival

practitioner, would not have broken Mr Brass's heart; but, pretending

great alacrity, he rose from his seat, and going to the door, returned,

introducing his client, who led by the hand no less a person than Mr

Richard Swiveller.

'There she is,' said Quilp, stopping short at the door, and wrinkling

up his eyebrows as he looked towards Miss Sally; 'there is the woman I

ought to have married--there is the beautiful Sarah--there is the

female who has all the charms of her sex and none of their weaknesses.

Oh Sally, Sally!'

To this amorous address Miss Brass briefly responded 'Bother!'

'Hard-hearted as the metal from which she takes her name,' said Quilp.

'Why don't she change it--melt down the brass, and take another name?'

'Hold your nonsense, Mr Quilp, do,' returned Miss Sally, with a grim

smile. 'I wonder you're not ashamed of yourself before a strange young

man.'

'The strange young man,' said Quilp, handing Dick Swiveller forward,

'is too susceptible himself not to understand me well. This is Mr

Swiveller, my intimate friend--a gentleman of good family and great

expectations, but who, having rather involved himself by youthful

indiscretion, is content for a time to fill the humble station of a

clerk--humble, but here most enviable. What a delicious atmosphere!'

If Mr Quilp spoke figuratively, and meant to imply that the air

breathed by Miss Sally Brass was sweetened and rarefied by that dainty

creature, he had doubtless good reason for what he said. But if he

spoke of the delights of the atmosphere of Mr Brass's office in a

literal sense, he had certainly a peculiar taste, as it was of a close

and earthy kind, and, besides being frequently impregnated with strong

whiffs of the second-hand wearing apparel exposed for sale in Duke's

Place and Houndsditch, had a decided flavour of rats and mice, and a

taint of mouldiness. Perhaps some doubts of its pure delight presented

themselves to Mr Swiveller, as he gave vent to one or two short abrupt

sniffs, and looked incredulously at the grinning dwarf.

'Mr Swiveller,' said Quilp, 'being pretty well accustomed to the

agricultural pursuits of sowing wild oats, Miss Sally, prudently

considers that half a loaf is better than no bread. To be out of

harm's way he prudently thinks is something too, and therefore he

accepts your brother's offer. Brass, Mr Swiveller is yours.'

'I am very glad, Sir,' said Mr Brass, 'very glad indeed. Mr Swiveller,

Sir, is fortunate enough to have your friendship. You may be very

proud, Sir, to have the friendship of Mr Quilp.'

Dick murmured something about never wanting a friend or a bottle to

give him, and also gasped forth his favourite allusion to the wing of

friendship and its never moulting a feather; but his faculties appeared

to be absorbed in the contemplation of Miss Sally Brass, at whom he

stared with blank and rueful looks, which delighted the watchful dwarf

beyond measure. As to the divine Miss Sally herself, she rubbed her

hands as men of business do, and took a few turns up and down the

office with her pen behind her ear.

'I suppose,' said the dwarf, turning briskly to his legal friend, 'that

Mr Swiveller enters upon his duties at once? It's Monday morning.'

'At once, if you please, Sir, by all means,' returned Brass.

'Miss Sally will teach him law, the delightful study of the law,' said

Quilp; 'she'll be his guide, his friend, his companion, his Blackstone,

his Coke upon Littleton, his Young Lawyer's Best Companion.'

'He is exceedingly eloquent,' said Brass, like a man abstracted, and

looking at the roofs of the opposite houses, with his hands in his

pockets; 'he has an extraordinary flow of language. Beautiful, really.'

'With Miss Sally,' Quilp went on, 'and the beautiful fictions of the

law, his days will pass like minutes. Those charming creations of the

poet, John Doe and Richard Roe, when they first dawn upon him, will

open a new world for the enlargement of his mind and the improvement of

his heart.'

'Oh, beautiful, beautiful! Beau-ti-ful indeed!' cried Brass. 'It's a

treat to hear him!'

'Where will Mr Swiveller sit?' said Quilp, looking round.

'Why, we'll buy another stool, sir,' returned Brass. 'We hadn't any

thoughts of having a gentleman with us, sir, until you were kind enough

to suggest it, and our accommodation's not extensive. We'll look about

for a second-hand stool, sir. In the meantime, if Mr Swiveller will

take my seat, and try his hand at a fair copy of this ejectment, as I

shall be out pretty well all the morning--'

'Walk with me,' said Quilp. 'I have a word or two to say to you on

points of business. Can you spare the time?'

'Can I spare the time to walk with you, sir? You're joking, sir,

you're joking with me,' replied the lawyer, putting on his hat. 'I'm

ready, sir, quite ready. My time must be fully occupied indeed, sir,

not to leave me time to walk with you. It's not everybody, sir, who

has an opportunity of improving himself by the conversation of Mr

Quilp.'

The dwarf glanced sarcastically at his brazen friend, and, with a short

dry cough, turned upon his heel to bid adieu to Miss Sally. After a

very gallant parting on his side, and a very cool and gentlemanly sort

of one on hers, he nodded to Dick Swiveller, and withdrew with the

attorney.

Dick stood at the desk in a state of utter stupefaction, staring with

all his might at the beauteous Sally, as if she had been some curious

animal whose like had never lived. When the dwarf got into the street,

he mounted again upon the window-sill, and looked into the office for a

moment with a grinning face, as a man might peep into a cage. Dick

glanced upward at him, but without any token of recognition; and long

after he had disappeared, still stood gazing upon Miss Sally Brass,

seeing or thinking of nothing else, and rooted to the spot.

Miss Brass being by this time deep in the bill of costs, took no notice

whatever of Dick, but went scratching on, with a noisy pen, scoring

down the figures with evident delight, and working like a steam-engine.

There stood Dick, gazing now at the green gown, now at the brown

head-dress, now at the face, and now at the rapid pen, in a state of

stupid perplexity, wondering how he got into the company of that

strange monster, and whether it was a dream and he would ever wake. At

last he heaved a deep sigh, and began slowly pulling off his coat.

Mr Swiveller pulled off his coat, and folded it up with great

elaboration, staring at Miss Sally all the time; then put on a blue

jacket with a double row of gilt buttons, which he had originally

ordered for aquatic expeditions, but had brought with him that morning

for office purposes; and, still keeping his eye upon her, suffered

himself to drop down silently upon Mr Brass's stool. Then he underwent

a relapse, and becoming powerless again, rested his chin upon his hand,

and opened his eyes so wide, that it appeared quite out of the question

that he could ever close them any more.

When he had looked so long that he could see nothing, Dick took his

eyes off the fair object of his amazement, turned over the leaves of

the draft he was to copy, dipped his pen into the inkstand, and at

last, and by slow approaches, began to write. But he had not written

half-a-dozen words when, reaching over to the inkstand to take a fresh

dip, he happened to raise his eyes. There was the intolerable brown

head-dress--there was the green gown--there, in short, was Miss Sally

Brass, arrayed in all her charms, and more tremendous than ever.

This happened so often, that Mr Swiveller by degrees began to feel

strange influences creeping over him--horrible desires to annihilate

this Sally Brass--mysterious promptings to knock her head-dress off and

try how she looked without it. There was a very large ruler on the

table; a large, black, shining ruler. Mr Swiveller took it up and

began to rub his nose with it.

From rubbing his nose with the ruler, to poising it in his hand and

giving it an occasional flourish after the tomahawk manner, the

transition was easy and natural. In some of these flourishes it went

close to Miss Sally's head; the ragged edges of the head-dress

fluttered with the wind it raised; advance it but an inch, and that

great brown knot was on the ground: yet still the unconscious maiden

worked away, and never raised her eyes.

Well, this was a great relief. It was a good thing to write doggedly

and obstinately until he was desperate, and then snatch up the ruler

and whirl it about the brown head-dress with the consciousness that he

could have it off if he liked. It was a good thing to draw it back,

and rub his nose very hard with it, if he thought Miss Sally was going

to look up, and to recompense himself with more hardy flourishes when

he found she was still absorbed. By these means Mr Swiveller calmed

the agitation of his feelings, until his applications to the ruler

became less fierce and frequent, and he could even write as many as

half-a-dozen consecutive lines without having recourse to it--which was

a great victory.

CHAPTER 34

In course of time, that is to say, after a couple of hours or so, of

diligent application, Miss Brass arrived at the conclusion of her task,

and recorded the fact by wiping her pen upon the green gown, and taking

a pinch of snuff from a little round tin box which she carried in her

pocket. Having disposed of this temperate refreshment, she arose from

her stool, tied her papers into a formal packet with red tape, and

taking them under her arm, marched out of the office.

Mr Swiveller had scarcely sprung off his seat and commenced the

performance of a maniac hornpipe, when he was interrupted, in the

fulness of his joy at being again alone, by the opening of the door,

and the reappearance of Miss Sally's head.

'I am going out,' said Miss Brass.

'Very good, ma'am,' returned Dick. 'And don't hurry yourself on my

account to come back, ma'am,' he added inwardly.

'If anybody comes on office business, take their messages, and say that

the gentleman who attends to that matter isn't in at present, will

you?' said Miss Brass.

'I will, ma'am,' replied Dick.

'I shan't be very long,' said Miss Brass, retiring.

'I'm sorry to hear it, ma'am,' rejoined Dick when she had shut the

door. 'I hope you may be unexpectedly detained, ma'am. If you could

manage to be run over, ma'am, but not seriously, so much the better.'

Uttering these expressions of good-will with extreme gravity, Mr

Swiveller sat down in the client's chair and pondered; then took a few

turns up and down the room and fell into the chair again.

'So I'm Brass's clerk, am I?' said Dick. 'Brass's clerk, eh? And the

clerk of Brass's sister--clerk to a female Dragon. Very good, very

good! What shall I be next? Shall I be a convict in a felt hat and a

grey suit, trotting about a dockyard with my number neatly embroidered

on my uniform, and the order of the garter on my leg, restrained from

chafing my ankle by a twisted belcher handkerchief? Shall I be that?

Will that do, or is it too genteel? Whatever you please, have it your

own way, of course.'

As he was entirely alone, it may be presumed that, in these remarks, Mr

Swiveller addressed himself to his fate or destiny, whom, as we learn

by the precedents, it is the custom of heroes to taunt in a very bitter

and ironical manner when they find themselves in situations of an

unpleasant nature. This is the more probable from the circumstance of

Mr Swiveller directing his observations to the ceiling, which these

bodily personages are usually supposed to inhabit--except in theatrical

cases, when they live in the heart of the great chandelier.

'Quilp offers me this place, which he says he can insure me,' resumed

Dick after a thoughtful silence, and telling off the circumstances of