"You think, sir, that——"
"I think that you would have done better at home. It would be cruel of me not to tell you the truth. Now I'll give you an example. We advertised for a clerk just a week since——"
"I wish I'd been here."
"My young friend, you wouldn't have had the ghost of a chance. We had five-and-thirty to pick and choose from, and we took the likeliest. I'm really sorry. If anything should turn up, where shall I communicate?"
Where should he communicate? And this was his father's best friend, from whom the too sanguine father expected Archie would have an invitation to dinner at once, and a general introduction to Sydney society.
"Oh, it is no great matter about communicating, Mr. Berry; aw!—no matter at all! I can afford to wait a bit and look round me. I—aw!—good morning, sir."
Away stalked the young Northumbrian, like a prince of the blood.
"A chip of the old block," muttered Mr. Berry, as he resumed his desk work. "Poor lad, he'll have to come down a peg though."
The cabby sprang towards the young nob.
"Where next, sir?"