"Yes, by-the-way, my dear boy," said the old gentleman, "I, as well as our friend Dunlop, have remarked that you seem scarcely to have benefited by your holiday; there is a kind of want of tone about you, I notice. Your people's place is in Dorsetshire, is it not? Relaxing, eh, and that kind of thing? House full of company, no doubt; shooting all day; billiards, private theatricals, flirtations, and that kind of thing. Doesn't do, my dear boy! doesn't do for men like us, who are all the rest of the year engaged in official drudgery; doesn't do, depend upon it."
And here Mr. Courtney laid down The Morning Post, and proceeded to commence his private correspondence.
"Oh, I'm all right, Chief," said Paul; "a little tired after my journey, perhaps--that's all; a little too smoke-dried by old George over there, for we got a carriage to ourselves, and I think his pipe was blazing all the way to town." Then turning to Dunlop, "I'll walk into the work presently, Billy, and you'll be able to take some leave, if you want any."
"No, thank you, old man," said Billy Dunlop; "I don't want to be away till just after Christmas. Within the month following that festive day, the number of persons engaged in trade who have a small amount to make up by a given period is extraordinary; and I feel it my duty to go into the country about that time, in order that no one may indulge any delusive hopes of pecuniary assistance from me."
After a few minutes George Wainwright stepped across to Paul's desk, and leaning over it, said in a low voice, "What's the matter? Nothing fresh since your arrival?"
"No, nothing at all," said Paul, in the same tone. "I found a note from her at the club, saying that she would meet me this afternoon, and expressed surprise at my having imagined that there had been any decrease in the warmth of her feelings for me, that's all."
"And what makes you so horribly downcast?"
"I cannot tell; I have a sense of oppression over me which I find it impossible to shake off. I had an idea that the mere fact of my return to London, the knowledge that I was so much nearer to her, would have dispersed it; but this morning it seems worse than ever. I think some of it is due to a certain feeling of remorse which I felt on parting with my mother yesterday; she seemed so horribly grieved about the failure of that other business, you know."
"I think you may acquit yourself entirely on that score," said George, looking earnestly at his friend, "as I shall probably be able to prove to you before long."
"What do you mean?" said Paul, in astonishment; "how can you know anything about it?"