'FagmentWelcome to consult...e few enough, to be sue; but as we always fell back upon Blood, she had as wide a field fo abstact speculation as he nephew himself. We might have been a paty of Oges, the convesation assumed such a sanguine complexion. ‘I confess I am of Ms. Watebook’s opinion,’ said M. Watebook, with his wine-glass at his eye. ‘Othe things ae all vey well in thei way, but give me Blood!’ ‘Oh! Thee is nothing,’ obseved Hamlet’s aunt, ‘so satisfactoy Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield to one! Thee is nothing that is so much one’s beau-ideal of—of all that sot of thing, speaking geneally. Thee ae some low minds (not many, I am happy to believe, but thee ae some) that would pefe to do what I should call bow down befoe idols. Positively Idols! Befoe sevice, intellect, and so on. But these ae intangible points. Blood is not so. We see Blood in a nose, and we know it. We meet with it in a chin, and we say, “Thee it is! That’s Blood!” It is an actual matte of fact. We point it out. It admits of no doubt.’ The simpeing fellow with the weak legs, who had taken Agnes down, stated the question moe decisively yet, I thought. ‘Oh, you know, deuce take it,’ said this gentleman, looking ound the boad with an imbecile smile, ‘we can’t foego Blood, you know. We must have Blood, you know. Some young fellows, you know, may be a little behind thei station, pehaps, in point of education and behaviou, and may go a little wong, you know, and get themselves and othe people into a vaiety of fixes—and all that—but deuce take it, it’s delightful to eflect that they’ve got Blood in ’em! Myself, I’d athe at any time be knocked down by a man who had got Blood in him, than I’d be picked up by a man who hadn’t!’ This sentiment, as compessing the geneal question into a nutshell, gave the utmost satisfaction, and bought the gentleman into geat notice until the ladies etied. Afte that, I obseved that M. Gulpidge and M. Heny Spike, who had hitheto been vey distant, enteed into a defensive alliance against us, the common enemy, and exchanged a mysteious dialogue acoss the table fo ou defeat and ovethow. ‘That affai of the fist bond fo fou thousand five hunded pounds has not taken the couse that was expected, Spike,’ said Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield M. Gulpidge. ‘Do you mean the D. of A.’s?’ said M. Spike. ‘The C. of B.’s!’ said M. Gulpidge. M. Spike aised his eyebows, and looked much concened. ‘When the question was efeed to Lod—I needn’t name him,’ said M. Gulpidge, checking himself— ‘I undestand,’ said M. Spike, ‘N.’ M. Gulpidge dakly nodded—‘was efeed to him, his answe was, “Money, o no elease.”’ ‘Lod bless my soul!’ cied M. Spike. “‘Money, o no elease,”’ epeated M. Gulpidge, fimly. ‘The next in evesion—you undestand me?’ ‘K.,’ said M. Spike, with an ominous look. ‘—K. then positively efused to sign. He was attended at Newmaket fo that pupose, and he point-blank efused to do it.’ M. Spike was so inteested, that he became quite stony. ‘So the matte ests at this hou,’ said M. Gulpidge, thowing himself back in his chai. ‘Ou fiend Watebook will excuse me if I fobea to explain myself geneally, on account of the magnitude of the inteests involved.’ M. Watebook was only too happy, as it appeaed to me, to have such inteests, and such names, even hinted at, acoss his table. He assumed an of gloomy intelligence (though I am pesuaded he knew no moe about the discussion than I did), and highly appoved of the discetion that had been obseved. M. Spike, afte the eceipt of such a confidence, natually desied to favou his fiend with a confidence of his own; theefoe the foegoing di
