de upon me personally. Also, I enjoyed the sense of
importance it gave me to open the firm's letters myself, and to tell
myself that, given certain bald facts to be acquired from this man or
the other, I could reply to them far better than Mr. John could. I
liked to make him think my smugly correct phrasing was his own,
because I knew it was much more polished, and I thought it much more
effective than his own; and I liked to figure myself a sort of
anonymous power behind the throne--the Sussex Street throne!

As we breasted the hill together from the North Shore landing-place,
Mr. Smith delivered himself of these sapient words, designed, I am
sure, to be of real help to me:

'What they call success in life is a simple business, really; only
nobody thinks so, and so very few find it out. They're always looking
round for special dodges, and wasting time following up special
methods recommended by this fool or the other. There's only one thing
wanted really for success, and that's just keeping on. Just keeping
on; that's all. If you never let go of yourself--never, mind you, but
just keep on, steady and regular, you can't help succeeding. It just
comes to you. But you must keep on. It's no good having a shot at
this, and trying the other. The way is just to keep on.'

My mentor was in a seriously practical vein on this Saturday night;
partly perhaps because, as the event proved, he was within four days
of one of his periodical disappearances.

XVI

In the early afternoon of Sunday I set out upon the visit I had
originally intended to pay on the previous day.

Three o'clock found me rather nervously ringing a bell at the door of
Filson House in Macquarie Street. Under the brightly polished bell-pull
was the name C. F. Rawlence, and the legend: 'Do not ring unless
an answer is required.' It was my first experience of such a notice,
and I felt uncertain how it was intended to apply. Neither for the
moment could I understand why in the world any sane person should ring
a bell unless desirous of eliciting a response of some kind. Finally,
I decided that it must be a plaintive and exceedingly trustful appeal
to the good nature of urchins who might be tempted to ring and run
away.

A smiling young Chinaman presently opened the door to me, and said:
'You come top-side alonga me, pease; Mr. Lollance he's in.'

So I walked upstairs behind the silent, felt-shod Asiatic, and
wondered what was coming next. I had hitherto