to say.
Entirely ignorant of the marriage engagement between Amelius and
Regina, and of the rupture in which it had ended, he vaguely suspected
nevertheless that his master might have fallen into an entanglement
with some lady unknown. The opportunity of putting the question was now
before him. He risked it in a studiously modest form.

"Are you going to America to be married, sir?"

Amelius eyed him with a momentary suspicion. "What has put that in your
head?" he asked.

"I don't know, sir," Toff answered humbly--"unless it was my own vivid
imagination. Would there be anything very wonderful in a gentleman of
your age and appearance conducting some charming person to the altar?"

Amelius was conquered once more; he smiled faintly. "Enough of your
nonsense, Toff! I shall never be married--understand that."

Toff's withered old face brightened slyly. He turned away to withdraw;
hesitated; and suddenly went back to his master.

"Have you any occasion for my services, sir, for an hour or two?" he
asked.

"No. Be back before I go out, myself--be back at three o'clock."

"Thank you, sir. My little boy is below, if you want anything in my
absence."

The little boy dutifully attending Toff to the gate, observed with grave
surprise that his father snapped his fingers gaily at starting, and
hummed the first bars of the Marseillaise. "Something is going to
happen," said Toff's boy, on his way back to the house.

From the Regent's Park to Blackacre Buildings is almost a journey from
one end of London to the other. Assisted for part of the way by an
omnibus, Toff made the journey, and arrived at the residence of Surgeon
Pinfold, with the easy confidence of a man who knew thoroughly well
where he was going, and what he was about. The sagacity of Rufus had
correctly penetrated his intentions; he had privately followed his
master, and had introduced himself to the notice of the surgeon--with a
mixture of motives, in which pure devotion to the interests of Amelius
played the chief part. His experience of the world told him that Sally's
departure was only the beginning of more trouble to come. "What is the
use of me to my master," he had argued, "except to spare him trouble, in
spite of himself?"

Surgeon Pinfold was prescribing for a row of sick people, seated before
him on a bench. "You're not ill, are you?" he said sharply to Toff.
"Very well, then, go into the parlour and wait."

The patients being dismissed, Toff a