"Is Mr. Loraine in?" I asked of a clerk at the desk.
"He is not—gone to Baltimore," replied the man, hardly looking up from his ledger.
"When will he return?" I inquired, greatly disappointed.
"Don't know; Mr. McKim is in his office; he can tell you."
I entered a small apartment in the corner, and asked for the senior partner. An elderly gentleman, busy with heaps of letters, informed me that he was the person.
"I wish to see Mr. Loraine very much," I continued.
"He has been in Baltimore for a week; we expect he will return to-day or to-morrow—probably to-night," answered Mr. McKim, fixing his eyes upon the open letter before him.
"Have you been acquainted with Mr. Loraine long?" I ventured to ask.
"Thirty years," replied he, glancing at me with a smile, as though the acquaintance was a pleasant thing to contemplate. "He has been my partner for twenty."
"Can you tell me, sir, whether he ever had a brother by the name of Austin Loraine," I added, emboldened by his smile.