“You will resume your own place in Guild Street at once?” he observed.
“To-morrow, please God.”
They walked a few steps further in silence; and then Mr. Channing entered upon the very subject which Mr. Huntley was hoping he would not enter upon. “I remember, you spoke, at Borcette, of having something in view for Hamish, should I be able to attend to business again. What is it?”
“I did,” said Mr. Huntley; “and I am sorry that I did. I spoke prematurely.”
“I suppose it is gone?”
“Well—no; it is not gone,” replied Mr. Huntley, who was above equivocation. “I do not think Hamish would suit the place.”
Mr. Channing felt a little surprised. There were few places that Hamish might not suit, if he chose to exercise his talents. “You thought he would suit then?” he remarked.
“But circumstances have since induced me to alter my opinion,” said Mr. Huntley. “My friend,” he more warmly added to Mr. Channing, “you will oblige me by allowing the subject to drop. I candidly confess to you that I am not so pleased with Hamish as I once was, and I would rather not interfere in placing him elsewhere.”
“How has he offended you? What has he done?”
“Nay, that is all I will say. I could not help giving you a hint, to account for what you might have thought caprice. Hamish has not pleased me, and I cannot take him by the hand. There, let it rest.”