The young man put the lawyer out, doing him no actual bodily hurt. He conducted him through the outer office to the landing, then addressed the astonished Andrews.
"Andrews, this is Mr. Stephen Wilkes; I believe you know him. Give instructions that, under no pretext, is he to be admitted to these offices again. I shall look to you to see that those instructions are carried out. Good-day, sir."
Shutting the door in the lawyer's face, he audibly turned the key on the inner side.
"Now, Andrews, would you mind coming into the other room?"
Miss Patterson greeted her cousin with the request she had already made. She still had the fragments of the letter between her fingers.
"How about that match, Rodney? Please burn these."
He made a little bonfire of them on the hearth, while she went on:
"I don't suppose you will be very eager now to attend my father's funeral in the capacity of mourner."
"I am not. I would much rather not go at all, if you will pardon the abstention."
"I would much rather you did not go either--so, Andrews, that is settled. Also, be so good as to understand that I should prefer that the funeral should not start from Russell Square."