“To return to his office, you mean?”
“Yes; until he can see his way out of the wood. But it goes against the grain.”
“Arthur dear, I know you will do it,” she gently said. “Were our duty always pleasant to us, where would be the merit in fulfilling it?”
“I shall do it,” he answered. “To that I have made up my mind. The difficulty is, Constance, to do it with a good grace.”
She looked at him with a loving smile. “Only try. A firm will, Arthur, will conquer even a rebellious spirit.”
Arthur knew it. He knew how to set about it. And a little later, he was on his way to Close Street, with the best grace in the world. Not only in appearance, mind you, but inwardly. It is a GREAT thing, reader, to conquer the risings of a proud spirit! To bring it from its haughty, rebellious pedestal, down to cordiality and love. Have you learnt the way?
Some parchments under his arm, for he had stayed to collect them together, Arthur bounded in to Mr. Galloway’s. The first object his eyes fell on was that shadowy form, coughing and panting. “Oh, Jenkins!” he involuntarily uttered, “what do you do out of your house?”
“Anxiety for me has brought him out,” said Mr. Galloway. “How can I scold him?”
“I could not rest, sir, knowing my master was alone in his need,” cried Jenkins to Arthur. “What is to become of the office, sir, with no one in it?”
“But he is not alone,” said Arthur; and, if he had wanted a reward for coming forward, that moment would have supplied it, in satisfying poor Jenkins. “If you will allow me, sir,” Arthur added, turning frankly to Mr. Galloway, “I will take my place here, until you shall be suited.”