'Capital, madam, capital,' urged Mr. Micawber,gloomily.
'That is the principal, I may say the only difficulty,my dear Mr. Copperfield,' assented his wife.
'Capital?' cried my aunt. 'But you are doing us a great service—have done us a great service, I may say,for surely much will come out of the fire—and what could we do for you, that would be half so good as to find the capital?
'I could not receive it as a gift,' said Mr. Micawber,full of fire and animation, 'but if a sufficient sum could be advanced, say at five per cent interest, per annum, upon my personal liability—say my notes of hand, at twelve, eighteen, and twenty-four months,respectively, to allow time for something to turn up—'