To this no answer came, and Kenyon and Wentworth again held consultation in the sumptuous offices which had been chosen for them.
'No news yet, I suppose?' said Kenyon.
'None whatever,' was the answer.
'Very well; I have made up my mind what to do——'
But before John Kenyon could say what he had resolved to do, the door opened, and there entered unto them Mr. William Longworth, with his silk hat as glossy as a mirror, a general trim and prosperous appearance about him, a flower in his buttonhole and his eyeglass in its place.
'Good-morning, gentlemen,' he said. 'I thought I should find you here, and so I did not call at your office, Wentworth. Ah,' he cried, looking round, 'this is the proper caper! These offices look even better than I thought they would. I just got back this morning,' he added, turning to his partners.
'Indeed,' said Wentworth, 'we are very glad to see you. How did you enjoy your trip to Paris?'
The young man did not appear in the least abashed by this remark. He merely elevated his eyebrows, shrugged his shoulders, and said:
'Ah, well, as both of you are doubtless aware, Paris is not what it used to be. Still, I had a very good time there.'
'I'm glad of that,' said Wentworth; 'and did you see the gentlemen you expected to meet?'