"He will soon give you that. You will find the master of Crown Anstey a powerful personage."
"There is another thing," I said, with a crimson flush burning my face; "I have but five shillings and sixpence in all the world."
He laughed aloud at this.
"I can advance you whatever you like, then—five hundred pounds or more."
The very mention of such a sum positively frightened me. Mr. Moreland looked very much amused.
"It will be some time," he said, "before you grow accustomed to ten thousand a year."
At that moment we were interrupted by the arrival of another client. I rose to take my leave, with a check for three hundred pounds in my hand.
"You will go down to Crown Anstey to-night?" said Mr. Moreland, as he shook hands with me. "We shall be there to-morrow morning. You will make what arrangements seem best to you over the funeral."
So I went away, the most bewildered man in London. As I re-entered the office I felt ashamed of my suspicions over my fellow-clerks. They were all busy, while I—oh, heaven! could it be true?
Mr. Lawson evidently thought I had been drinking when I went, white and stammering, confused and hesitating, into his room. He looked very sternly at me.