It was done, and they were man and wife. Well, even the happiest marriage is always a good thing to get over. It was not a long drive back to Hanover-square, and the very first sight that greeted them on their arrival was the infant from the City (John’s), accompanied by his brother, the infant from Pump-court (James’), who had, presumably, come to show him the way, or more probably because he thought that there would be eatables going—holding in his hand a legal-looking letter.
“Marked ‘immediate,’ Sir; so I thought that I had better serve it at once,” said the first infant, handing the letter to John.
“What is it?” asked Eustace, nervously. He had grown to hate the sight of a lawyer’s letter with a deadly hate.
“Notice of appeal, I expect,” said John.
“Open it, man!” said Eustace, “and let’s get it over.”
Accordingly, John did so, and read as follows:—
“MEESON v. ADDISON AND ANOTHER
“Dear Sir,—After consultation with our clients, Messrs. Addison and Roscoe, we are enabled to make you the following offer. If no account is required of the mesne profits”—
“That’s a wrong term,” said James, irritably. “Mesne profits refer to profits derived from real estate. Just like a solicitor to make such a blunder.”
“The term is perfectly appropriate,” replied his twin, with warmth. “There was some real estate, and, therefore, the term can properly be applied to the whole of the income.”