"And I'm to walk, though it's three miles," said the Manager. "Well! take care of the Bank; it appears to me that it has a new Manager!"
He passed out through the swing doors, and a couple of minutes went by and he did not return, and Reggie began to breathe freely, till the fear struck him that after all, his efforts had been of no use if Mr. Bowles, the lame gentleman, had just caught Mr. Gray on the pavement outside, but even as the thought darted into his mind, the doors swung open again, and the lame gentleman entered and looked round. "Mr. Gray?" said he, interrogatively, as Reggie came forward.
"Mr. Gray has just gone down to Muirend to see Mr. Collins, who is very ill."
"It is very inconvenient of him," said Mr. Bowles irritably, "I wrote so that he should get the letter by the first post this morning."
Reggie glanced down at the pile of letters he had just brought from Mr. Gray's room to open.
"It will be here, I expect," he said politely, "can I take your instructions?"
Mr. Bowles grunted and scowled, but nevertheless he followed Reggie into the Manager's room and ran through what he had come to say, and watched Reggie's careful noting down of the points.
"So Lily Jarrold got married yesterday," he said abruptly, as Reggie finished. "I suppose champagne ran like rivers, and half you fellows got drunk, and the girls did not know what they were laughing at, eh? Were you there?"
"I was there," answered Reggie, a trifle stiffly, "it was a very pretty wedding, and she looked awfully happy."
"Humph!" said the old gentleman, "but wasn't it as I said, afterwards?"