Sad times,--sad times: jobs from the crown are growing scarcer every day, Mr.Saville." "Humph! that's all a chance, a speculation.

Times are bad indeed, as you say: no money in the market; go, Glosson; offer him five; your percentage shall be one per cent.

higher than if I pay six thousand, and shall be counted up to the latter sum." "He! he! he! sir!" grinned Glosson; "you are fond of your joke, Mr.
Saville." "Well, now; what else in the market?
never mind my friend: Mr.
Godolphin--Mr.Glosson; now all gene is over; proceed,--proceed." Glosson hummed, and bowed, and hummed again, and then glided on to speak of houses, and crown lands, and properties in Wales, and places at court (for some of the subordinate posts at the palace were then--perhaps are now--regular matter of barter); and Saville, bending over the table, with his thin delicate hands clasped intently, and his brow denoting his interest, and his sharp shrewd eye fixed on the agent, furnished to the contemplative Godolphin a picture which he did not fail to note, to moralise on, to despise! What a spectacle is that of the prodigal rake, hardening and sharpening into the grasping speculator!.