ture in Broughton's house without Broughton's knowledge.

CHAPTER XL

Mr. Toogood's Ideas About Society

A day or two after the interview which was described in the last
chapter John Eames dined with his uncle Mr. Thomas Toogood, in
Tavistock Square. He was in the habit of doing this about once a
month, and was a great favourite both with his cousins and with
their mother. Mr. Toogood did not give dinner-parties; always begging
those whom he asked to enjoy his hospitality, to take pot luck, and
telling young men whom he could treat with familiarity,--such as his
nephew,--that if they wanted to be regaled _a la Russe_ they must not
come to Number 75, Tavistock Square. "A leg of mutton and trimmings;
that will be about the outside of it," he would say; but he would add
in a whisper,--"and a glass of port such as you don't get every day
of your life." Polly and Lucy Toogood were pretty girls, and merry
withal, and certain young men were well contented to accept the
attorney's invitation,--whether attracted by the promised leg of
mutton, or the port wine, or the young ladies, I will not attempt to
say. But it had so happened that one young man, a clerk from John
Eames' office, had partaken so often of the pot luck and port wine
that Polly Toogood had conquered him by her charms, and he was now a
slave, waiting an appropriate time for matrimonial sacrifice. William
Summerkin was the young man's name; and as it was known that Mr
Summerkin was to inherit a fortune amounting to five thousand pounds
from his maiden aunt, it was considered that Polly Toogood was not
doing amiss. "I'll give you three hundred pounds, my boy, just to put
a few sheets on the beds," said Toogood the father, "and when the old
birds are both dead she'll have a thousand pounds out of the nest.
That's the extent of Polly's fortune;--so now you know." Summerkin
was, however, quite contented to have his own money settled on his
darling Polly, and the whole thing was looked at with pleasant and
propitious eyes by the Toogood connexion.

When John Eames entered the drawing-room Summerkin and Polly were
already there. Summerkin blushed up to his eyes, of course, but Polly
sat as demurely as though she had been accustomed to having lovers
all her life. "Mamma will be down almost immediately, John," said
Polly as soon as the first greetings were over, "and papa has come
in, I know."

"Summerkin," said Johnny, "I'm afraid you left the office before