'Gray's Inn Square.
'DEAR SIR,
'We have the pleasure to inform you that by the death of your father's much respected cousin, Bevil Goring, Esq., of Chowringee, Calcutta, you have become his heir to a fortune of considerably above £20,000 per annum in India stock, bank shares, Central India and other railway shares, &c., the items of which we shall send you fully detailed in a few days. We shall take all the necessary measures about proving the will, and, trusting that we shall be continued as your legal advisers, we are, dear sir, yours faithfully,
'TAYPE, SHAWRPE, AND SCRAWLY,
'Solicitors.'
More accustomed to wealth, and personally less interested in the document, Jerry took in the situation at once.
'Whoop!' he exclaimed, as he wrung Goring's hand. 'Whoop and hurrah! I congratulate you, I do, from my heart and soul, old fellow. There is not a soul in the Brigade deserves good fortune more than you do. What a trump this old Bevil was to die just in the nick of time, before the route came!'
'What do you mean by that, Jerry?'
'You'll be sending in your papers—cutting the Rifles now. A fortune, by Jove—I always knew you had expectations, as they are called.'
'Every fellow has; they are often, too often, bad things to rely upon; and yet how few—how very few amongst us can resist the temptation of doing so in some fashion or other. But as for quitting the corps—with war rumours in the air too—by Jove, that is the last thing I should think of doing.'
'Egad! What a night we'll have of it at the mess hut to-night—a jolly deep drink, and have the band out!'