brown sail was coming down
in all its picturesque charm. The contrast between this quiet scene and
the bustling, dusty, jostling world he had come in from, was grateful
even to his disturbed heart; and he felt half inclined to go round to
the garden and fling himself on the lawn as a man might do who was free
from care.

Mr. Carr indulged in the costly luxury of three rooms in the Temple; his
sitting-room, which was his work-room, a bedroom, and a little outer
room, the sanctum of his clerk. Lord Hartledon was in the sitting-room,
but he could hear the clerk moving about in the ante-room, as if he had
no writing on hand that morning. When tired of waiting, he called him in.

"Mr. Taylor, how long do you think he will be? I've been dozing, I
think."

"Well, I thought he'd have been here before now, my lord. He generally
tells me if he is going out for any length of time; but he said nothing
to-day."

"A newspaper would be something to while away one's time, or a book,"
grumbled Hartledon. "Not those," glancing at a book-case full of
ponderous law-volumes.

"Your lordship has taken the cream out of them already," remarked the
clerk, with a laugh; and Hartledon's brow knitted at the words. He had
"taken the cream" out of those old law-books, if studying them could do
it, for he had been at them pretty often of late.

But Mr. Taylor's remarks had no ulterior meaning. Being a shrewd man, he
could not fail to suspect that Lord Hartledon was in a scrape of some
sort; but from a word dropped by his master he supposed it to involve
nothing more than a question of debt; and he never suspected that the
word had been dropped purposely. "Scamps would claim money twice over
when they could," said Mr. Carr; and Elster was a careless man, always
losing his receipts. He was a short, slight man, this clerk--in build
something like his master--with an intelligent, silent face, a small,
sharp nose, and fair hair. He had been born a gentleman, he was wont to
say; and indeed he looked one; but he had not received an education
commensurate with that fact, and had to make his own way in the world.
He might do it yet, perhaps, he remarked one day to Lord Hartledon; and
certainly, if steady perseverance could effect it, he would: all his
spare time was spent in study.

"He has not gone to one of those blessed consultations in somebody's
chambers, has he?" cried Val. "I have known them last three hours."

"I have known them last longer