184 THE GOLD SNUFF-BOX. 



man's wife, to attend upon his better-dressed customer. " Ah! 

 hem hem !" said the subaltern, rather bothered to open 

 the negotiation but the Lombard gave an encouraging sim- 

 per, " A small advance wanted, I presume ?" " Why, no 

 ah. hem! wish to dispose of a trifle a present, no 

 use for it, but would not for the world it was known." 

 The pawnbroker instantly presented his finger -and thumb, 

 to receive watch, ring, or jewel, according as the case 

 might be. 



The snuff-box was promptly displayed, and the happy eye 

 of the money-dealer turned rapidly from the box to the pre- 

 senter : " Well, sir, pray what be the value ?" 



" Really, can't say a present and " 



" Oh! ye-e-e-s old gold mere drug now-a-days about 

 three pound ten an ounce once valuable bullion then scarce 

 a year ago it would have been a very pretty swag." 



" Swag I What do you mean ?" cried the alarmed seller. 

 " Zounds ! do you think I stole it?" 



" Oh, dear, no-o I beg pardon meant present. Here, the 

 scales, John. Ah ! ah ! let me see ay standing beam 

 ah ! say fifteen pounds full value, I assure you the price 

 to a pennyweight/' 



" Very well ; I'm content : but if my friend discovered that 

 I would part with his present " 



The broker raised his forefinger to his nose, and dropped 

 his left eyelid with a striking expression tHe look would have 

 done honour to an Old Bailey practitioner. The money was 

 told down upon the counter: "The hammer, John!" A 

 lean, ill-grown, ill-visaged dwarf, produced a weighty one. 

 There was a small anvil affixed to the bench ; my Lady 



L 's box received one mortal blow, and the attending imp 



swept the shattered fragments into a crucible. 



What was the exact disposition of the assets, I cannot pre- 

 tend to say ; but I believe they were fairly partitioned between 

 the parties concerned. 



About six months afterwards, when passing through the 



city, after my father's death, I met Lord L -, and he 



received me with his customary kindness. " You must dine 

 with me to-day," he said. I pointed to my mourning coat. 

 " Oh, you must come the very place for one wishing to avoid 

 the world. Since you left Dublin, my poor aunt has under- 

 gone such a change ! an infernal gang has got round her 



