been written.

I was surprised that it was not in Jack's own hand. It ran as
follows:--

"Sir,--I am sorry to say Master Johnny has took ill since he came down.
The doctor thinks it is smallpox; so please excuse him to the gentlemen,
and say we hope it will make no difference, as he cannot come for a many
weeks. Your humble--Jane Shield."

John ill--with smallpox! This was a blow! My first impulse was, at all
risks, to go down and look after him. But I reflected that this would
be, after all, foolish. I should certainly not be allowed to see him,
and even if I were, I could not of course return to the office with the
infection about me. Poor Jack! At least it was a comfort that he had
some one to look after him.

My first care, after the receipt of the letter, was to seek an interview
with the partners and explain matters to them. And this I found not a
very formidable business. Mr Barnacle, indeed, did say something about
its being awkward just when they were so busy to do without a clerk.
But Mr Merrett overruled this by reminding his partner that in a week
or two his nephew would be coming to the office, and that, to begin
with, he could fill up the vacant place.

"Besides," said he, with a warmth which made me feel quite proud of my
friend--"besides, Smith is too promising a lad to spare."

So I was able to write a very reassuring letter to good Mrs Shield, and
tell her it would be all right about Jack's place when he came back.
Meanwhile, I entreated her to let me know regularly how he was getting
on, and to tell me if his sister was better, and, in short, to keep me
posted up in all the Smith news that was going.

This done, I set myself to face the prospect of a month or so of life in
London without my chum.

I didn't like the prospect. The only thing that had made Beadle Square
tolerable was his company, and how I should get on now with Mr
Horncastle and his set I did not care to anticipate.

I confided my misgivings to Doubleday, who laughed at them.

"Oh," said he, "you must turn that place up. I know it. One of our
fellows was there once. It's an awfully seedy place to belong to."

"The worst of it is," said I--who, since my evening at Doubleday's, had
come to treat him as a confidant--"that my uncle pays my lodging there;
and if I went anywhere else he'd tell me to pay for myself."

"That's awkward," said Doubleday, meditatively; "pity he should stick
you in such a cheap hole."