But such as him takes no hints: delicacy
being emitted in their composition. "Timothy,"
says Mings, as loud as before, "photography and
I have parted. I am now an organ of public
opinion—secretary to an influentious paper."

I shook, Sir, as I heard my Cousin's appeal;
knowing, by yourself, what those who rule them
papers are equal to do, or to undo—and supposing
from his imperiousness, that he was connected
somewhere.  Who knew but with Punch? My
partner and me had often in our maiden days
talked Punch over as a salubrious influence on
the haughty classes of this world.

It proved not Punch, however, Sir. "I dare
say, Timothy," said Mings, sticking his thumbs
in the arm-holes of his waistcoat, and crossing
his legs for the entire afternoon, "that, reader
though you are not, you may have heard speak
of the Orb of Fashion. I am one of the principal
writers, and it proves you sadly in arrears of
the world, that I don't see it lying about here;
though of course it is a cut above the Arcade."

"Mings," says I, in unfeigned unacquaintanceship
—and yet who would be behindhand in
duty to one's order, when reflections was cast
on our neighbourhood?—"Our copy goes,
instantaneous we have finished it, to Lady Maria:
because my Lady will read no paragrams save
those of my wife's marking."

"Timothy," was his answer,—the serpent,
he knew as well as I did, that I had never set
eyes on any of their Orbs:—"Timothy, if so be,
yours is to act the part of a true relation: and
I am glad to make it up with you. Then if you
have another half-crown about you, it will be
five shillings, and such is even money."

Sir, weakness, when knavery assails, has been,
alas! too deeply my motto,—and that
extortionists takes cruel advantage of it, the sad
sequel shall disclose. Besides, I heard
Mademazelle coming down; and he was not that
aspect of person one likes to be seen lending
money to. So I had not time to weigh, and I
said, imparting the second loan, "There, Mings,
good day."

"Good day!" says Mings, "I've not begun
yet! and it was only for your advantage, and not
the Orb's, that I called to consult you on a
matter of business."

I see I was in for it, and felt the labyrinth
round my neck; and he saw I saw, and I saw
he saw and was alive to the labyrinth, by the
twinkle of his eye. If a customer had come in,
who knows what might have been diverted?
"Madmysel," said I to our assistant, who at the
juncture descended, "perhaps you'll go up for
a quarter of an hour. There are them tuberoses
to look to. Private business predominates."

Madmysel Claire did not like dismission,
French females being curious, and Mings having
fixed her with his glass in a manner suggestional
of vanity, against which no female heart is proof.

"Madmysel!" says Mings, with a little laugh,
when she had ascended. "Come, I say, is she
married too? and if married, what's her name?"

"Mings," said I, "jocularity may trespass
beyond the brink. My wife's assistant—all our
assistants up-stairs" (the phib injured nobody),
"are unmarried; thus leaving them more at
liberty to indulge exclusive energies on the
bonnets. And so, on the spot, before we are
interrupted, about business. If you have any
proposial to propose, propose it sincerely."

"Proposial! I believe you!" and the
insidious laugh of the hyæna was repeated.
"What a thing for your Emporium (Mademoiselle
Mireille's, I should say) to be promoted in the
Orb of Fashion! the sole depôt in the Arcade
which can hail that proud distinction. Come,
Timothy, since Peace it is to be, shall I open
our columns to your interests—(Mademoiselle
Mireille's, I should say?) Since Mrs. Wignett
would not attune with the expectations of our
aristocratic subscribers."

I own I was snared, Sir, never having seen or
heard of the Orb of Fashion till that juncture:
yet knowing how proud the power the Press can
wield, as indeed, Sir, who elucidates like yourself?

"Mings," said I, "do you mean handsome
reciprocation; and not as before, when your
imprudence drove myself and partner from our
anchors in a lordly home, to embark in these
precarious seas? How about my wife's Emporium
and the Orbit of Fashion?"

"Timothy," says he, "suspicion has been too
much your forte. Beware now! Was we to
talk in our Orb of Mrs. Wignett's bonnet-shop
in the Arcade, would Lady Maria read the
paragraphs of Madmysel Mireille's marking?"

The serpent! But I felt that his sarcasms
(alive to the screen I had erected) bore a core
of truth in them; and that we were at his mercy.
And the Orb of Fashion—who knew?—might
one day, in its galaxy among the fair, rival the
Times. "Mings," I said, "if there is talk to
be of my wife's Emporium in the Orb of Fashion,
what are your views? State them in an above–board
and graceful manner. Of course" (for I
struggled to the last, Sir, to assert my independence),
"the Orb will pay handsomely for
information?"

"Pay!" roared Mings, bursting out into such
a cataract of derision that the vicinity was
alarmed, and two opposites and a casual customer
came rushing in, inquiring was some one in
spasms; and down came Madmysel Claire,
expecting also a paroxysm. Scenes has always
been my bane: and Mings, the cockatrice, knew
it, and that I wished to cut this catastrophe
short, so he said in my ear, "Timothy, give me
some dinner somewhere, and we'll soon square
matters all round, over a glass of wine."

I was too thankful to extricate, with a view
to peace and customers, to have made any head
against Mings, had he insisted on tea and supper
no less than dinner. At the Yellow Posts, on
that lurid and fatal day of the compract, he cost
me fifteen shillings, besides the five he had
procured out of me. On the whole, a sovereign.

Nor did he let we two part till it was settled
that Mings was to be on our free list of Bonnets,
so long as his Organ of Opinion devoted itself
once a fortnight to the interests of the Emporium,
by awarding it a prominential place in the annals