bread but little rolls in
place of them, no tea, and no dishes ever seen in Mrs. Gabbitas's
kitchen, or at my North Shore lodging. And then the figure of my host,
lounging at table in the rosy light, a cigarette between the shapely
fingers of his right hand--I had not before seen any one smoke at the
dinner-table--his brown velvet coat, his languidly graceful gestures,
the delicate hue of his flowing neck-tie, the costly sort of
negligence of his whole dress and deportment--all these trifling
matters were alike rare and exquisite in my eyes.

After their fashion the day, and in particular the evening, were an
education for me. I spent a couple of hours over the short homeward
journey to Mill Street, the better to savour and consider my
impressions. The previous day belonged to my remote past. I had
travelled through ages of experience since then. For example, I quite
definitely was no longer proud of being a clerk in an office. As I
realised this I smiled down as from a great height upon a recollection
of the chorus of a Scots ditty sung by a sailor on board the
_Ariadne_. I have no notion of how to spell the words, but they ran
somewhat in this wise:

'Wi' a Hi heu honal, an' a honal heu hi,
Comelachie, Ecclefechan, Ochtermochty an' Mulgye,
Wi' a Hi heu honal, an' a honal heu hi,
It's a braw thing a clairk in an orfiss.'

Well, it was no such a braw thing to me that night, as it had seemed
on the previous day. I had heard the word 'commercial' spoken with an
intonation which I fancied Mr. Smith would greatly resent. But I did
not resent it. And that was another of the fruits of my immense
experience: Mr. Smith would never again hold first place as my mentor.
How could he? Why, even some of my own innocent notions of the past--of
pre-Macquarie Street days--seemed nearer the real thing than one or
two of poor Mr. Smith's obiter dicta. I had noted the hats of that
elect assemblage, and there had not been a billycock among them. Not a
single example of the headgear which Mr. Smith held necessary for the
self-respecting man in Sydney! But, on the contrary, there had been
quite a number of a kind which approximated more or less to the soft
brown hat purchased by me in Dursley, and discarded upon Mr. Smith's
urgent recommendation in favour of the more rigid and precise
billycock. I reflected upon this significant fact for quite a long
while.

Certainly, the world was a very wonderful place. Was it possible that