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Updated: June 3, 2025
The young man who sat at the high desk, and seemed to spend all his time in contemplating the bad debts in the ledger, would tell gentlemen who called up to one that Mr. Neefit was in the City. After one it was always said that Mr. Neefit was lunching at the Restaurong. The truth was that Mr.
On that day Ralph was driven back to town in his cab, in a rather disheartened condition, and no more was seen or heard of him for the present at Popham Villa. His late guardian had behaved very ill to him in telling Mary Bonner the story of Polly Neefit.
"You be round with her, and run your chance about the money." "Mrs. Neefit," said Ontario, laying his hand upon his heart, "all the bullion in the Bank of England don't make a feather's weight in the balance." "You never was mercenary, Mr. Ontario," said the lady. "My sweetheart is to me more than a coined hemisphere," said Ontario. The expression may have been absurd, but the feeling was there.
Newton's bill was now above a thousand, he should like a little cash. Mr. Newton's bill at two months for £500 would be quite satisfactory. "Would Mr. Newton accept the enclosed document?" Mr. Newton did accept the document, but he didn't like it. How was he to pay £500 in the beginning of September, unless indeed he got it from Mr. Neefit?
He had never been there at so early an hour before, and it was thought afterwards by both Mr. and Mrs. Neefit that his appearance, so unexpected by them, had not surprised their daughter Polly. Could it have been possible that she had sent a message to him after that little scene with her father? There he was, at any rate, and Polly was up to receive him. "Now, Onty, that'll do.
Exactly at one o'clock the bell was rung at Sir Thomas's outside door, and Stemm was on the alert to give entrance to Mr. Trigger. When the door was opened who should present himself but our unfortunate friend Neefit. He humbly asked whether Sir Thomas was within, and received a reply which, as coming from Stemm, was courteous in the extreme. "Mr. Trigger, I suppose; walk in, Mr. Trigger."
Neefit, not at all understanding why he was called Trigger, did walk in. Stemm, opening the door of his master's sanctum, announced Mr. Trigger. Neefit advanced into the middle of the room. Sir Thomas, with some solicitude as to the adjustment of his arm, rose to greet his agent from Percy cross. "This isn't Mr. Trigger," said Sir Thomas.
"Stick to that, Neefit," said Lieutenant Cox. "I mean to stick to it," said Mr. Neefit. He then ordered another glass of gin and water, and was driven back to the station. On the day following that on which Mr. Neefit made his journey to the Moonbeam, Sir Thomas Underwood was at his chambers in London.
"Three pair? leather?" asked Mr. Neefit, when he returned, raising his eyebrows, and clearly showing that the moment was not one of unmixed delight. "Two leather; one cord," said the foreman. "He had four pair last year," said Mr. Neefit, in a tone so piteous that it might almost have been thought that he was going to weep.
Newton," said Neefit, "I think I heard something about your taking a walk with our Polly. If you like to make a start of it, don't let us keep you. Moggs and I will have a pipe together." "I also intend to walk with Miss Neefit," said Ontario, standing up bravely. "Two's company and three's none," said Neefit. "No doubt," said Ontario; "no doubt. I feel that myself. Mr.
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