ER wants to see you, sir," said Bassett, as Hartley, coming in
from a visit to the harbour, hung his hat on a peg and began to change
into the old coat he wore in the office. "Mr. John; he has rung three
times."

The chief clerk changed his coat again, and after adjusting his hair in
the little piece of unframed glass which he had bought in the street for
a penny thirty years before, hastened to the senior partner's room.

Mr. Vyner, who was rinsing his hands in a little office washstand that
stood in the corner, looked round at his entrance and, after carefully
drying his hands on a soft towel, seated himself at his big writing
table, and, leaning back, sat thoughtfully regarding his finger-nails.
His large, white, freckled hands were redolent of scented soap,
and, together with his too regular teeth, his bald head, and white
side-whiskers, gave him an appearance of almost aggressive cleanliness.

"I rang for you several times," he said, looking up with a frown.

"I have just come back from Wilson's," said Hartley; "you told me to
see them to-day."

Mr. Vyner said "Yes," and, caressing his shaven chin in his hand,
appeared to forget the other's existence.

"How long have you been with us?" he inquired at last.

"Thirty-five years, sir," said Hartley, studying his face with sudden
anxiety.

"A long time," said the senior partner, dryly. "A long time."

"A pleasant time, sir," ventured the other, in a low voice.

Mr. Vyner's features relaxed, and took on--after some trouble--an
appearance of benevolence.

"I hope so," he said, in patronizing tones. "I hope so. Vyner and
Son have the name for being good masters. I have never heard any
complaints."

He pushed his chair back and, throwing one leg over the other, looked
down at his patent-leather boots. The benevolent expression had
disappeared.

[Illustration: He leaned back in his chair 156]

"Thirty-five years," he said, slowly. "H'm! I had no idea it was so
long. You have--ha--no family, worth mentioning?"

"One daughter," said Hartley, his lips going suddenly dry.

"Just so. Just so," said the senior partner. He looked at his boots
again. "And she is old enough to earn her own living. Or she might
marry. You are in a fortunate position."

Hartley, still watching him anxiously, bowed.

"In the event, for instance," continued Mr. Vyner, in careless tones--
"in the event of your retiring from the service of Vyner and Son, there
is nobody that would s