was to nervous shocks, the small clerk leaped with
more than ordinary tremor off his stool on this occasion, picked up the
paper, laid it at his master's elbow, and sat down again, prepared to
look out--nautically speaking--for more squalls.

Mr Sudberry seized a quill, dabbed it into the ink-bottle, and split
it. Seizing another he dabbed again; the quill stood the shock; the
small clerk ventured a sigh of relief and laid aside the inky napkin
which he had pulled out of his desk expecting an upset, and prepared for
the worst. A note was dashed off in two minutes,--signed, sealed,
addressed, in half a minute, and Mr Sudberry leaped off his stool. His
hat was thrown on his head by a species of sleight of hand, and he
appeared in the outer office suddenly, like a stout Jack-in-the-box.

"I'm away, Mr Jones," (to his head clerk), "and won't be back till
eleven to-morrow morning. Have you the letters ready? I am going round
by the post-office, and will take charge of them."

"They are here, sir," said Mr Jones, in a mild voice.

Mr Jones was a meek man, with a red nose and a humble aspect. He was a
confidential clerk, and much respected by the firm of Sudberry and
Company. In fact, it was generally understood that the business could
not get on without him. His caution was a most salutary counteractive
to Mr Sudberry's recklessness. As for "Co," he was a sleeping partner,
and an absolute nonentity.

Mr Sudberry seized the letters and let them fall, picked them up in
haste, thrust them confusedly into his pocket, and rushed from the room,
knocking over the umbrella-stand in his exit. The sensation left in the
office was that of a dead calm after a sharp squall. The small clerk
breathed freely, and felt that his life was safe for that day.

STORY ONE, CHAPTER 2.

MR SUDBERRY AT HOME.

"My dear," cried Mr Sudberry to his wife, abruptly entering the parlour
of his villa, near Hampstead Heath, "I have done the deed!"

"Dear John, you _are_ so violent; my nerves--really--_what_ deed?" said
Mrs Sudberry, a weak-eyed, delicate woman, of languid temperament, and
not far short of her husband's age.

"I have written off to secure a residence in the Highlands of Scotland
for our summer quarters this season."

Mrs Sudberry stared in mute surprise. "John! my dear! are you in
earnest? Have you not been precipitate in this matter? You know, love,
that I have always trusted in your prudence to make arrangements