"This is a letter of introduction, I suppose?" said I, taking the epistle.
"Yes. With that in your pocket you will run no risk of finding yourself in a state of absolute destitution, which, I know, you will regard as a degradation--so should I, for that matter. The person to whom you will present it generally has two or three respectable places depending upon his recommendation."
"That will just suit me," said I.
"Well, and where's your gratitude?" demanded Mr. Hunsden; "don't you know how to say 'Thank you?'"
"I've fifteen pounds and a watch, which my godmother, whom I never saw, gave me eighteen years ago," was my rather irrelevant answer; and I further avowed myself a happy man, and professed that I did not envy any being in Christendom.
"But your gratitude?"
"I shall be off presently, Mr. Hunsden--to-morrow, if all be well: I'll not stay a day longer in X---- than I'm obliged."
"Very good--but it will be decent to make due acknowledgment for the assistance you have received; be quick! It is just going to strike seven: I'm waiting to be thanked."
"Just stand out of the way, will you, Mr. Hunsden: I want a key there is on the corner of the mantelpiece. I'll pack my portmanteau before I go to bed."
The house clock struck seven.
"The lad is a heathen," said Hunsden, and taking his hat from a sideboard, he left the room, laughing to himself. I had half an inclination to follow him: I really intended to leave X---- the next morning, and should certainly not have another opportunity of bidding him good-bye. The front door banged to.
"Let him go," said I, "we shall meet again some day."