looking for a clerk or secretary.

As the old gentleman moved away he noticed that Nicholas was about to
speak, and good-naturedly stood still.

"I was only going to say," said Nicholas, "that I hoped you had some
object in consulting those advertisements in the window."

"Ay, ay; what object now?" returned the old gentleman. "Did you think I
wanted a situation now, eh? I thought the same of you, at first, upon my
word I did."

"If you had thought so at last, too, sir, you would not have been far
from the truth," rejoined Nicholas. "The kindness of your face and
manner--both so unlike any I have ever seen--tempt me to speak in a way
I should never dream of doing to a stranger in this wilderness of
London."

"Wilderness! Yes, it is; it is. It was a wilderness to me once. I came
here barefoot--I have never forgotten it. What's the matter, how did it
all come about?" said the old man, laying his hand on the shoulder of
Nicholas, and walking him up the street. "In mourning, too, eh?" laying
his finger on the sleeve of his black coat.

"My father," replied Nicholas.

"Bad thing for a young man to lose his father. Widowed mother, perhaps?"

Nicholas nodded.

"Brothers and sisters, too, eh?"

"One sister."

"Poor thing, poor thing! You're a scholar too, I dare say. Education's a
great thing. I never had any. I admire it the more in others. A very
fine thing. Tell me more of your history, all of it. No impertinent
curiosity--no, no!"

There was something so earnest and guileless in the way this was said
that Nicholas could not resist it. So he told his story, and, at the
end, the old gentleman carried him straight off to the City, where they
emerged in a quiet, shady square. The old gentleman led the way into
some business premises, which had the inscription, "Cheeryble Brothers,"
on the doorpost, and stopped to speak to an elderly, large-faced clerk
in the counting-house.

"Is my brother in his room, Tim?" said Mr. Cheeryble.

"Yes, he is, sir," said the clerk.

What was the amazement of Nicholas when his conductor took him into a
room and presented him to another old gentleman, the very type and model
of himself--the same face and figure, the same clothes. Nobody could
have doubted their being twin brothers.

"Brother Ned," said Nicholas's friend, "here is a young friend of mine
that we must assist." Then brother Charles related what Nicholas had
told him. And, after that, and some conversation between t