f in the _litera scripta_."

Randal went first to Egerton's neighboring office--he had not been there
that day. He then took a cabriolet and drove to Grosvenor Square. A
quiet-looking chariot was at the door. Mr. Egerton was at home; but the
servant said, "Dr. F. is with him, sir; and perhaps he may not like to
be disturbed."

"What, is your master ill?"

"Not that I know of, sir. He never says he is ill. But he has looked
poorly the last day or two."

Randal hesitated a moment; but his commission might be important, and
Egerton was a man who so held the maxim, that health and all else must
give way to business, that he resolved to enter; and, unannounced, and
unceremoniously, as was his wont, he opened the door of the library. He
startled as he did so. Audley Egerton was leaning back on the sofa, and
the doctor, on his knees before him, was applying the stethoscope to his
breast. Egerton's eyes were partially closed as the door opened. But at
the noise he sprang up, nearly oversetting the doctor. "Who's that?--How
dare you!" he exclaimed, in a voice of great anger. Then recognizing
Randal, he changed color, bit his lip, and muttered drily, "I beg pardon
for my abruptness: what do you want, Mr. Leslie?"

"This letter from Lord ----; I was told to deliver it immediately into
your own hands; I beg pardon--"

"There is no cause," said Egerton, coldly. "I have had a slight attack
of bronchitis; and as Parliament meets so soon, I must take advice from
my doctor, if I would be heard by the reporters. Lay the letter on the
table, and be kind enough to wait for my reply."

Randal withdrew. He had never seen a physician in that house before, and
it seemed surprising that Egerton should even take a medical opinion
upon a slight attack. While waiting in the ante-room there was a knock
at the street door, and presently a gentleman, exceedingly well-dressed,
was shown in, and honored Randal with an easy and half familiar bow.
Randal remembered to have met this personage at dinner, and at the house
of a young nobleman of high fashion, but had not been introduced to him,
and did not even know him by name. The visitor was better informed.

"Our friend Egerton is busy, I hear, Mr. Leslie," said he, arranging the
camelia in his button-hole.

"Our friend Egerton!" It must be a very great man to say, "Our friend
Egerton."

"He will not be engaged long, I dare say," returned Randal, glancing his
shrewd inquiring eye over the str