He suffered himself to be persuaded, stepped into the barouche, and took his seat by Lady Augusta. As they drove away, Arthur thought the greatest ornament the carriage contained had been added to it in handsome Hamish.
A full hour Arthur worked on at his deeds and leases, and Roland Yorke never returned. Mr. Galloway came in then. “Where’s Yorke?” was his first question.
Arthur replied that he did not know; he had “stepped out” somewhere. Arthur Channing was not one to make mischief, or get another into trouble. Mr. Galloway asked no further; he probably inferred that Yorke had only just gone. He sat down at Jenkins’s desk, and began to read over a lease.
“Can I have the stamps, sir, for this deed?” Arthur presently asked.
“They are not ready. Have the letters gone to the post?”
“Not yet, sir.”
“You can take them now, then. And, Arthur, suppose you step in, as you return, and see how Jenkins is.”
“Very well, sir.” He went into Mr. Galloway’s room, and brought forth the three letters from the rack. “Is this one not to be sealed?” he inquired of Mr. Galloway, indicating the one directed to Ventnor, for it was Mr. Galloway’s invariable custom to seal letters which contained money, after they had been gummed down. “It is doubly safe,” he would say.
“Ay, to be sure,” replied Mr. Galloway. “I went off in a hurry, and did not do it. Bring me the wax.”
Arthur handed him the wax and a light. Mr. Galloway sealed the letter, stamping it with the seal hanging to his watch-chain. He then held out his hand for another of the letters, and sealed that. “And this one also?” inquired Arthur, holding out the third.