he clock and harmonium might be
preserved.

"But you've been dismissed!" said Clara.

"Never! never!"

"It has been written in the book! 'Dismissal--B. B.!' I know the eyes
that have seen it."

"That's not the way they do it at all," said Crocker, who was
altogether confused.

"It has been written in the book, Sam; and I know that they never go
back from that."

"Who wrote it? Nothing has been written. There isn't a book;--not at
least like that. Tribbledale has invented it."

"Oh, Sam, why did you tear those papers;--Her Majesty's Mail papers?
What else was there to expect? 'Dismissal--B. B.;' Why did you do
it,--and you engaged to a young woman? No;--don't come nigh to me.
How is a young woman to go and get herself married to a young man,
and he with nothing to support her? It isn't to be thought of. When I
heard those words, 'Dismissal--B. B.,' I thought my very heart would
sink within me."

"It's nothing of the kind," said Crocker.

"What's nothing of the kind?"

"I ain't dismissed at all."

"Oh, Sam; how dare you?"

"I tell you I ain't. He's written a letter to Lord Hampstead, who has
always been my friend. Hampstead wasn't going to see me treated after
that fashion. Hampstead wrote, and then Aeolus wrote,--that's Sir
Boreas,--and I've seen the letter,--that is, Hampstead told me what
there is in it; and I ain't to be dismissed at all. When I heard the
good news the first thing I did was to come as fast as my legs would
carry me, and tell the girl of my heart."

Clara did not quite believe him; but then neither had she quite
believed Tribbledale, when he had announced the dismissal with the
terrible corroboration of the great man's initials. But the crime
committed seemed to her to be so great that she could not understand
that Crocker should be allowed to remain after the perpetration of
it. Crocker's salary was L150; and, balancing the two young men
together as she had often done, though she liked the poetry of
Tribbledale, she did on the whole prefer the swagger and audacity of
Crocker. Her Majesty's Civil Service, too, had its charms for her.
The Post Office was altogether superior to Pogson and Littlebird's.
Pogson and Littlebird's hours were 9 to 5. Those of Her Majesty's
Service were much more genteel;--10 namely to 4. But what might not
a man do who had shown the nature of his disposition by tearing up
official papers? And then, though the accidents of the occasion had
enveloped her in d