rned. The highest references
will in every instance be given and demanded. Intending clients must in
the first instance apply by letter to Messrs. Gray and Graham. No charge
will be made for a first interview, which can only be granted after
satisfactory references have been exchanged by letter.'

'If _that_ does not inspire confidence,' said Merton, 'I don't know what
will.'

'Nothing short of it will do,' said Logan.

'But the mezzotints will carry weight,' said Trevor, 'and a few good
cloisonnes and enamelled snuff-boxes and bronzes will do no harm.'

So he sent in some weedings of his famous collection.

III. ADVENTURE OF THE FIRST CLIENTS

Merton was reading the newspaper in the office, expecting a client. Miss
Blossom was typewriting in the inner chamber; the door between was open.
The office boy knocked at Merton's outer door, and the sound of that
boy's strangled chuckling was distinctly audible to his employer. There
is something irritating in the foolish merriment of a youthful menial. No
conduct could be more likely than that of the office boy to irritate the
first client, arriving on business of which it were hard to exaggerate
the delicate and anxious nature.

These reflections flitted through Merton's mind as he exclaimed 'Come
in,' with a tone of admonishing austerity.

The office boy entered. His face was scarlet, his eyes goggled and ran
water. Hastily and loudly exclaiming 'Mr. and Miss Apsley' (which ended
with a crow) he stuffed his red pocket handkerchief into his mouth and
escaped. At the sound of the names, Merton had turned towards the inner
door, open behind him, whence came a clear and piercing trill of feminine
laughter from Miss Blossom. Merton angrily marched to the inner door,
and shut his typewriter in with a bang. His heart burned within him.
Nothing could be so insulting to clients; nothing so ruinous to a nascent
business. He wheeled round to greet his visitors with a face of apology;
his eyes on the average level of the human countenance divine. There was
no human countenance divine. There was no human countenance at that
altitude. His eyes encountered the opposite wall, and a print of 'Mrs.
Pelham Feeding Chickens.'

In a moment his eyes adjusted themselves to a lower elevation. In front
of him were standing, hand in hand, a pair of small children, a boy of
nine in sailor costume, but with bare knees not usually affected by naval
officers, and a girl