He then hastily tore off a small scrap of paper from some that lay before him, and wrote on it the words—
“J.G. is here.”
“Give this,” he said, “to the young gentleman, my secretary, instantly.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And then bring Gray to me here.”
The servant bowed, and retired, leaving Learmont standing in the middle of the room with such an expression of triumph on his face, that when Gray made his appearance, which he did almost immediately, he started back a pace or two in surprise, an action which was nearly imitated by Learmont, for Gray looked so very different in his wig, that Learmont quite started at first sight of him.
The two looked at each other for several moments without speaking, then Gray, in his quick sneering tone, said,—
“Your worship will get used to my wig in the course of time.”
“Probably,” said Learmont, “if you live so long.”
“Live so long?”