First Period First Narrative - Chapter XXII

Now as an Italian-Englishman, now as a German-Englishman, and now as a
French-Englishman, he drifted in and out of all the sitting-rooms in the
house, with nothing to talk of but Miss Rachel's treatment of him; and
with nobody to address himself to but me. I found him (for example) in
the library, sitting under the map of Modern Italy, and quite unaware of
any other method of meeting his troubles, except the method of talking
about them. "I have several worthy aspirations, Betteredge; but what am
I to do with them now? I am full of dormant good qualities, if Rachel
would only have helped me to bring them out!" He was so eloquent in
drawing the picture of his own neglected merits, and so pathetic in
lamenting over it when it was done, that I felt quite at my wits' end
how to console him, when it suddenly occurred to me that here was a case
for the wholesome application of a bit of ROBINSON CRUSOE. I hobbled out
to my own room, and hobbled back with that immortal book. Nobody in the
library! The map of Modern Italy stared at ME; and I stared at the map
of Modern Italy.

I tried the drawing-room. There was his handkerchief on the floor, to
prove that he had drifted in. And there was the empty room to prove that
he had drifted out again.

I tried the dining-room, and discovered Samuel with a biscuit and a
glass of sherry, silently investigating the empty air. A minute since,
Mr. Franklin had rung furiously for a little light refreshment. On its
production, in a violent hurry, by Samuel, Mr. Franklin had vanished
before the bell downstairs had quite done ringing with the pull he had
given to it.