“I see you are incorrigible,” laughed Mr. Durnford.
“You’ll find that I am. But now—” and “Cobbler” Horn regarded his minister with an expression of modest, friendly interest in his face—“I’m going to write another cheque.”
“You must be fond of the occupation, Mr. Horn.”
“Cobbler” Horn’s enrichment had not, in any degree, caused the cordiality of his relations with his minister to decline. There was nothing in “Cobbler” Horn to encourage sycophancy; and there was not in Mr. Durnford a particle of the sycophant.
“I believe I don’t altogether dislike it, sir,” assented “Cobbler” Horn in response to the minister’s last remark. “But,” he added, handing to him the cheque he had now finished writing, “will you, my dear sir, accept that for yourself? Your stipend is far too small; and I know Mrs. Durnford’s illness in the spring must have been very expensive. Don’t say no, I beg of you; but take it——as a favour to me.”
He had risen from his seat, and the next moment, with a hurried “good morning,” he was gone, leaving the astonished minister in possession of a cheque for one hundred pounds!
CHAPTER XX.
“COBBLER” HORN’S VILLAGE.
It was the custom of “Cobbler” Horn to spend the first hour of every morning, after breakfast, in the office, with his secretary. They would go through the letters which required attention; and, after he had given Miss Owen specific directions with regard to some of them, he would leave her to use her own discretion with reference to the rest. Amongst the former, there were frequently a few which he reserved for the judgment of Mr. Durnford. It was the duty of the young secretary to scan the letters which came by the later posts; but none of them were to be submitted to “Cobbler” Horn until the next morning, unless they were of urgent importance.