'You look somewhat unhinged, Kippilaw,' said Lord Fettercairn, as he seated himself in the former's private business room.
'I feel so, my lord,' replied the lawyer, in a fidgety way, as he breathed upon and wiped his spectacles; 'I have to talk over an unpleasant matter with you.'
'Business?'
'Yes; perhaps you would defer it till after dinner?'
'Not at all—what the deuce is it? Debts of Shafto's?'
'Worse, my lord!'
'Worse! You actually seem unwell; have a glass of sherry, if I may press you in your own house.'
'No thanks; I am in positive distress.'
'How—about what?' asked the Peer impatiently.
'The fact is, my lord, I don't know how to go about it and explain; but for the first time since I began my career as a W.S.—some forty years ago now—I have made a great professional blunder, I fear.'