“Yes, sir,” was the answer.
“Then go to his lodgings directly,” exclaimed the lawyer, in an imperious tone; “and if you find him at home, tell him that I am very angry indeed at his absence. Should he be ill, you must desire him to get out of bed, take a cab, and come to me at once to give an account of his conduct. Two guineas a-week, indeed, to a fellow who takes it into his head to be ill!”
And with this humane reflection Mr. Heathcote was about to resume his work, while the young clerk was turning towards the door, when Mr. Green suddenly made his appearance.
“Oh! you are come at last, sir—are you?” cried the lawyer, glancing up at the clock. “A quarter past five—and the office hours are from nine till six. What the deuce does this mean, sir?”
“I had a little business to transact, sir,” answered the head clerk, closing the door by which the junior functionary had just evaporated.
“A little business!” repeated Mr. Heathcote, staring at the man in unfeigned amazement: for he could not possibly conceive how Mr. Green should have any affairs of his own to attend to.
“Yes, sir—a little business,” returned the head clerk, who, though now feeling comparatively independent of his master could not shake off an obsequiousness of manner, which had become habitual to him. “Is it strange, sir, that for once in a way I should have taken the holiday which was certain to be refused if solicited beforehand?”
“Have you been drinking, Mr. Green—or are you mad—to talk to me in this style?” demanded Heathcote, surveying his clerk with more than usual attention.
“I have had nothing to drink, sir, beyond a single glass of sherry—and I beg to inform you that I am not crazy,” answered the head clerk, growing a trifle bolder.
“A glass of sherry!” repeated Heathcote, again evincing the most unfeigned astonishment. “How is it possible, sir, that you can indulge in such extravagances and pay for them honestly? A few days ago you ventured to appear before me in a new suit of clothes, with the gloss actually on them—whereas your regular office-suit had not been thread-bare more than two years. Let me tell you, sir, that I take note of these things: I observe the most minute symptoms of change in a man’s character or habits; and no one can deceive me, Mr. Green—no one can deceive me,” repeated the lawyer, looking hard at the individual whom he thus addressed, as much as to say that he had suspected something wrong and was now certain of it.