"otherwise you may be sure I shouldn't keep him there." "I will allow
that he is clever," said the secretary. "It isn't cleverness, so much
as tact. It's what I call tact. I hadn't been long in the service
before I mastered it myself; and now that I've been at the trouble to
teach him I don't want to have the trouble to teach another. But upon
my word he must mind his _p_'s and _q_'s; upon my word, he must; and
you had better tell him so." "The fact is, Mr. Kissing," said the
private secretary the next day to the secretary,--Mr. Kissing was at
that time secretary to the board of commissioners for the receipt of
income tax--"The fact is, Mr. Kissing, Sir Raffle should never attempt
to write a letter himself. He doesn't know how to do it. He always
says twice too much, and yet not half enough. I wish you'd tell him
so. He won't believe me." From which it will be seen Mr. Eames was
proud of his special accomplishment, but did not feel any gratitude
to the master who assumed to himself the glory of having taught
him. On the present occasion John Eames wrote all his letters before
he thought again of Lily Dale, and was able to write them without
interruption, as the chairman was absent for the day at the
Treasury,--or perhaps at his club. Then, when he had finished, he
rang his bell, and ordered some sherry and soda-water, and stretched
himself before the fire,--as though his exertions in the public
service had been very great,--and seated himself comfortably in his
arm-chair, and lit a cigar, and again took out Lady Julia's letter.

As regarded the cigar, it may be said that both Sir Raffle and Mr
Kissing had given orders that on no account should cigars be lit
within the precincts of the Income-tax Office. Mr. Eames had taken
upon himself to understand that such orders did not apply to a
private secretary, and was well aware that Sir Raffle knew his habit.
To Mr. Kissing, I regret to say, he put himself in opposition whenever
and wherever opposition was possible; so that men in the office said
that one of the two must go at last. "But Johnny can do anything, you
know, because he has got money." That was too frequently the opinion
finally expressed among the men.

So John Eames sat down, and drank his soda-water, and smoked his
cigar, and read his letter; or, rather, simply that paragraph of the
letter which referred to Miss Dale. "The tidings of her death have
disturbed her, and set her thinking again of things that were