"My compliments to Mr. Lighthead—an excellent young official, very promising indeed—and would he step upstairs for a minute—will excuse this undress in circumstances—really I will not speak any more.
"Those notes, Mr. Lighthead, will make my idea quite plain—and I hope to revise final draft—if God will—my dutiful respect to the Board, and kind regards to the chief clerk. It was kind of you to come—most thoughtful."
This young gentleman came into my room to learn the state of the case, and was much impressed.
"Really this kind of thing—Perkins gasping in bed and talking in his old-fashioned way—knocks one out of time, don't you know? If he had gone on much longer I should have bolted.
"Like him in the office? I should think so. You should have seen the young fellows to-day when they heard he was so ill. Of course we laugh a bit at him—Schedule Perkins he's called—because he's so dry and formal; but that's nothing.
"With all his little cranks, he knows his business better than any man in the department; and then he's a gentleman, d'y see? could not say a rude word or do a mean thing to save his life—not made that way, in fact.
"Let me just give you one instance—show you his sort. Every one knew that he ought to have been chief clerk, and that Rodway's appointment was sheer influence. The staff was mad, and some one said Rodway need not expect to have a particularly good time.
"Perkins overheard him, and chipped in at once. 'Mr. Rodway'—you know his dry manner, wagging his eyeglass all the time—'is our superior officer, and we are bound to render him every assistance in our power, or,' and then he was splendid, 'resign our commissions.' Rodway, they say, has retired, but the worst of it is that as Perkins has been once passed over he'll not succeed.
"Perhaps it won't matter, poor chap. I say," said Lighthead, hurriedly, turning his back and examining a pipe on the mantelpiece, "do you think he is going to—I mean, has he a chance?"
"Just a chance, I believe. Have you been long with him?"