"That's a pity," said Western, sympathisingly; "and what have you been doing?"
"Nothing very recently. I broke my arm last spring, and was obliged to go into the country for my health. I have not long returned."
"Do your pawents keep house?"
"Not at present. We are staying with a friend. Our house was burned down by the rioters."
This conversation recalled so vividly their past trials, that Esther's eyes grew watery, and she dropped her veil to conceal a tear that was trembling on the lid.
"How vewy unfortunate!" said Mr. Western, sympathisingly; "vewy twying, indeed!" then burying his chin in his hand, he sat silently regarding them for a moment or two.
"Have you come to any decision about taking him?" Esther at last ventured to ask of Mr. Twining.
"Taking him!—oh, dear me, I had almost forgot. Charles, let me see you write something—here, take this seat."
Charlie sat down as directed, and dashed off a few lines, which he handed to Mr. Twining, who looked at it over and over; then rising, he beckoned to his partner to follow him into an adjoining room.
"Well, what do you say?" asked Western, after they had closed the door behind them. "Don't you think we had better engage him?"