l fit for duty. The street was narrow--as Ned
observed with a feeling of deep depression--and the house to which the
green door belonged, besides being dirty, retreated a little, as if it
were ashamed of itself.

On the knocker being applied, the green door was opened by a
disagreeable-looking old woman, who answered to the question, "Is Mr
Moxton in?" with a short "Yes," and, without farther remark, ushered our
hero into a very dingy and particularly small office, which, owing to
the insufficient quantity of daylight that struggled through the dirty
little windows, required to be lighted with gas. Ned felt, so to speak,
like a thermometer which was falling rapidly.

"Can I see Mr Moxton?" he inquired of a small dishevelled clerk, who
sat on a tall stool behind a high desk, engaged in writing his name in
every imaginable form on a sheet of note paper.

The dishevelled clerk pointed to a door which opened into an inner
apartment, and resumed his occupation.

Ned tapped at the door indicated.

"Come in," cried a stern voice.

Ned, (as a thermometer), fell considerably lower. On entering, he
beheld a tall, gaunt man, with a sour cast of countenance, standing with
his back to the fire.

Ned advanced with a cheerful expression of face. Thermometrically
speaking, he fell to the freezing-point.

"You are young Sinton, I suppose. You've come later than I expected."

Ned apologised, and explained that he had had some difficulty in finding
the house.

"Umph! Your uncle tells me that you're a sharp fellow, and write a good
hand. Have you ever been in an office before?"

"No, sir. Up till now I have been at college. My uncle is rather
partial, I fear, and may have spoken too highly of me. I think,
however, that my hand is not a bad one. At least it is legible."

"At least!" said Mr Moxton, with a sarcastic expression that was meant
for smile, perhaps for a grin. "Why, that's the _most_ you could say of
it. No hand is good, sir, if it is not legible, and no hand can
possibly be bad that _is_ legible. Have you studied law?"

"No, sir, I have not."

"Umph! you're too old to begin. Have you been used to sit at the desk?"

"Yes; I have been accustomed to study the greater part of the day."

"Well, you may come here on Monday, and I'll speak to you again, and see
what you can do. I'm too busy just now. Good-morning."

Ned turned to go, but paused on the threshold, and stood holding the
door-handle.