"I didn't, you see."
"But surely he always allowed you a lot," said Lisle, still unsatisfied. "You never used to talk of doing anything."
"No, but I found I must. The fact is, I'm not on the best terms with my cousin [page 178] at Brackenhill, and I made up my mind to be independent. Consequently, I'm a clerk—a copying-clerk, you understand—in a lawyer's office here—Ferguson's in Fisher street—and I lodge accordingly."
"I'm very sorry," said Bertie.
"Hammond knows all about it," the other went on, "but nobody else does."
"I was afraid there was something wrong," said Bertie—"wrong for you, I mean. From our point of view it is very lucky that circumstances have sent you here. But I hope your prospects may brighten; not directly—I can't manage to hope that—but soon."
Percival smiled. "Meanwhile," he said with a quiet earnestness of tone, "if there is anything I can do to help you or Miss Lisle, you will let me do it."
"Certainly," said Bertie. "We are going out now to look for a grocer. Suppose you come and show us one."
"I'm very much at your service. What are you looking at?"