"I shall not want you, Pounce," she said. "If, as you say, and I see no reason to disbelieve it, your father is a legatee for a thousand pounds, he will, of course, receive it, when the will is proved; that, however, will probably be, under the circumstances, a work of time. In the interim, as I have done your father the injustice of believing that he—that he did not act with perfect openness in the matter, I shall be happy to make him a small allowance. You had better send him to me."
"If I can discover him, ma'am, I will; but he's left his old lodgings, and no one knows where he has gone to!"
"Then, find him. You had better advertise. Now, you can go."
Young John left Mrs. Pintle's house with a heart as heavy as when he entered it, for there appeared but little chance of his finding old Johnny and his wife; and, moreover, he had made the discovery that his late master, for whose memory he entertained a sincere regard, was, in point of fact, an unmitigated scoundrel.
He had the rest of the afternoon before him, and he spent the early part of it in sending advertisements to the principal daily papers. It was four o'clock before this was satisfactorily accomplished; and then he took a steamboat from Blackfriars, intending to go to Chelsea, and thence to Kensington. But the boat did not go higher than Westminster Bridge; so he landed there, and determined to take the omnibus at Charing Cross.
As he walked down Parliament Street, he had to pass the scene of his former labours, the Pauper Philosophy
