r my happiness depends upon yours. Go where you
will, I am ready to follow and to serve you, and as long as I see you
comfortable, I care for nothing else."

These words of Timothy almost shook my resolution, and I was near
telling him all; but when I recollected, I refrained. "My dear Timothy,"
said I, "in this world we must expect to meet with a chequered
existence; we may laugh at one time, but we must cry at others. I owe
my life to you, and I never shall forget you, wherever I may be."

"No," replied Timothy, "you are not likely to forget one who is hardly
an hour out of your sight."

"Very true, Timothy; but circumstances may occur which may separate us."

"I cannot imagine such circumstances, nor do I believe, that bad as
things may turn out, that they will ever be so bad as that. You have
your money and your house; if you leave London, you will be able to add
to your income by letting your own apartments furnished, so we never
shall want; and we may be very happy running about the world, seeking
what we wish to find."

My heart smote me when Timothy said this, for I felt, by his devotion
and fidelity, he had almost the same claim to the property I possessed,
as myself. He had been my partner, playing the inferior game, for the
mutual benefit. "But the time may come, Timothy, when we may find
ourselves without money, as we were when we first commenced our career,
and shared three-pence halfpenny each, by selling the old woman the
embrocation."

"Well, sir, and let it come. I should be sorry for you, but not for
myself, for then Tim would be of more importance, and more useful, than
as valet with little or nothing to do."

I mentally exclaimed, 'I have, I think I have, been a fool, a great fool,
but the die is cast. I will sow in sorrow, and may I reap a harvest in
joy. I feel,' thought I (and I did feel), 'I feel a delightful
conviction, that we shall meet again, and all this misery of parting will
be but a subject of future garrulity.' "Yes, Tim," said I, in a loud
voice, "all is right."

"All's right, sir; I never thought anything was wrong, except your
annoyance at people not paying you the attention which they used to
do, when they supposed you a man of fortune."

"Very true; and Tim, recollect that if Mr Masterton speaks to you about
me, which he may after I am gone to Richmond, you tell him that before
I left, I paid that old scoundrel Emmanuel every farthing that I had
borrowed of him, and you k