"Sir, my name is Gammon," he replied, coloring a little—and rising, with an expression of very great surprise—"I believe I have the honor of seeing Mr. Aubrey?—I beg you will allow me to offer you a chair"—he continued with forced calmness of manner, placing one as far distant as was possible from the table, and, to make assurance doubly sure, seating himself between Mr. Aubrey and the table; expecting to hear his visitor at once open the subject of their bill, which they had so recently sent in.
"Will you suffer me, Mr. Aubrey," commenced Gammon, with a bland and subdued air, not fulsome, but extremely deferential, "before entering on any business which may have brought you here, to express deep and sincere sympathy with your sufferings, and my personal regret at the share we have had in the proceedings which have ended so adversely for your interests? But our duty as professional men, Mr. Aubrey, is often as plain as painful!"
"I feel obliged, sir," said Mr. Aubrey, with a sigh, "for your kind expressions of sympathy—but I cannot for a moment conceive any apology necessary. Neither I, nor my advisers, that I am aware of, have ever had cause to complain of harsh or unprofessional treatment on your part. Your proceedings certainly came upon me—upon all of us—like a thunder-stroke," said Mr. Aubrey, with a little emotion. "I trust that you have given me credit, Mr. Gammon, for offering no vexatious or unconscientious obstacles."
"Oh, Mr. Aubrey! on the contrary, I am at a loss for words to express my sense of your straightforward and high-minded conduct; and have several times intimated my sentiments on that subject to Messrs. Runnington"—Mr. Aubrey bowed—"and again I anxiously beg that you will give me credit for feeling the profoundest sympathy"—he paused, as if from emotion; and such might well have been excited, in any person of ordinary feeling, by the appearance of Mr. Aubrey—calm and melancholy—his features full of anxiety and exhaustion, and his figure, naturally slender, evidently somewhat emaciated.
["I wonder," thought Gammon, "whether he has any insurances on his life!—He certainly has rather a consumptive look—I should like to ascertain the fact—and in what office—and to what extent.">[
"I trust, most sincerely, Mr. Aubrey, that the mental sufferings which you must have undergone, have not affected your health?" inquired Gammon, with an air of infinite concern.
"A little, certainly, sir, but, thank God, I believe not materially; I never was very robust," he replied with a faint sad smile.
["How like his sister!"—thought Gammon, watching his companion's countenance with real interest.]
"I am not quite sure, Mr. Gammon," continued Aubrey, "that I am observing etiquette in thus coming to you, on a matter which you may consider ought to have been left to my solicitors, and who know nothing of my present visit—but"——
"An honorable mind like yours, Mr. Aubrey, may surely act according to its own impulses with safety! As for etiquette, I know of no professional rule which I break, in entering into a discussion with you of any topic connected with the action which has recently been determined," said Gammon, cautiously, and particularly on his guard, as soon as his penetrating eye had detected the acuteness which was mingled with the sincerity and simplicity of character visible in the oppressed countenance of Mr. Aubrey.