Mr. Brabazon rose and took possession of his hat. He felt that the interview, without having been productive of any positive benefit to him, or having served in any way to modify the facts of his position, had yet done him good. It was something to have secured the sympathy and goodwill of the kind-hearted old man; and that, however undemonstrative his manner might be, or however guarded his utterances, he had secured them he felt fully assured. The cloud had lifted in some measure, and his heart felt lighter, he knew not why, than it had felt an hour before.
The lawyer also rose. There were two or three people in the outer office waiting to see him.
"Don't forget my advice," he said. "Do nothing rashly, or in a hurry. Remember that the chapter of accidents may nearly always be counted on as a big asset, especially when one is still as young as you are. I have your present address by me, but should you change your venue, let me know. Also, don't forget to advise me should there be any change in the present relations between your uncle and yourself. But, for that matter, I don't know why you shouldn't come and look me up as often as you feel inclined. One can say in five minutes more than one can convey in half a dozen sheets of foolscap, and you know without my telling you that I shall always be glad to see you. And now one last word"--here he laid a kindly hand for a moment on the young man's shoulder. "I don't suppose you are very flush of cash--it would be rather an uncommon state of affairs with you if you were, wouldn't it? Well, seeing that one source of supplies has run dry, it behoves you to look out for another. Let me be that other, Mr. Brabazon; let me be your banker till brighter fortunes dawn upon you. I have a tidy little balance lying idle at the bank, and if----"
Burgo caught him suddenly by the hand and gripped it hard, very hard. "My dear Mr. Garden--my dear old friend," he said, and then he had to pause for a moment before he could go on, "not a word more of this just now. I have still a few pounds by me, and by the time they are gone I hope to have settled on something definite as regards my future. But should it ever be my fortune, or misfortune, to be stone-broke (which is by no means an unlikely thing to happen), and to find myself without a shilling to pay for my night's lodging, then I promise you that you shall be the first of whom I will ask that help which I can no longer do without."
[CHAPTER V.]
A HUMBLE FRIEND.
Two days later Burgo Brabazon knocked at the door of No. 22 Great Mornington Street. Although Lady Clinton had distinctly told him his uncle was too ill to see anybody, that only made it all the more imperative that he should call and ascertain for himself whether the dear old boy was better or worse.
To the servant who responded to his summons--moderated for fear of annoying the sick man--he said, while handing him his card, "Take this to Lady Clinton with my compliments, and tell her that I have called to inquire about my uncle's health."
It was a curious and by no means a pleasant sensation to Burgo to find himself left standing on the mat in the entrance-hall of the house which, nearly ever since he could remember, he had regarded in the light of home, and to realise that he was now looked upon as nothing more than an alien and an outcast.
The man was not gone more than a couple of minutes. "Lady Clinton begs to inform Mr. Brabazon," he said, "that Sir Everard is neither better nor worse than usual."