"Do you wish to see Mr. Bale, or Mr. Medlin, sir?" he asked, "Or can I take your orders?"
"You are a capital imitator of your father, Jack," Bob said, as he brought his hand down heavily on the shoulder of the young clerk; who stared at him in astonishment.
"Why, it is Bob--I mean, Mr. Repton!" he exclaimed.
"It's Bob Repton, Jack, sure enough; and glad I am to see you. Why, it is nearly three years since we met; and we have both altered a good bit, since then.
"Well, is my uncle in?"
"No, he is out, at present; but my father is in the inner office."
Bob strode into the inner office, and greeted Mr. Medlin as heartily as he had done his son; and Mr. Medlin, for the first time since he had entered Philpot Lane, as a boy, forgot that he was within the sacred precincts of the city and, for at least ten minutes, laughed and talked as freely and unrestrainedly as if he had been out at Highgate.
"Your uncle will be delighted to see you back," he said. "He is for ever talking about you; and there wasn't a prouder man in the city of London than he was, when the despatches were published and your name appeared, twice, as having rendered great service. He became a little afraid, at one time, that you might take to soldiering, altogether. But I told him that I thought there was no fear of that. After you had once refused to take a midshipman's berth--with its prospect of getting away from school--I did not think it likely that you would be tempted, now."
"No; the General told Captain O'Halloran that he would get me a commission, if I liked; but I had not the least ambition that way. I have had a fine opportunity of seeing war, and have had a jolly time of it; and now I am quite ready to settle down, here."
Mr. Bale was delighted, on his return, to find Bob. It was just the hour for closing, and he insisted upon Mr. Medlin stopping to take supper with him. Bob had written, whenever there was an opportunity of sending letters; but many of these had never come to hand, and there was much to tell, and talk about.