was a charming dog; and to think that such a fate should have
overtaken him, when it was only last week that he did the same kind
office for Anne's spaniel. Poor Snarleyow! you should really have him
stuffed. But, my dear Caresfoot, you have not yet introduced me to the
hero of the evening, Mr. Heigham. Mr. Heigham, I am delighted to make
your acquaintance," and he shook hands with Arthur with gentle
enthusiasm, as though he were the last scion of a race that he had
known and loved for generations.

Presently dinner was announced, and the three sat down at a small
round table in the centre of the big dining-room, on which was placed
a shaded lamp. It was not a cheerful dinner. George, having said
grace, relapsed into moody silence, eating and drinking with gusto but
in moderation, and savouring every sup of wine and morsel of food as
though he regretted its departure. He was not free from gluttony, but
he was a judicious glutton. For his part, Arthur found a certain
fascination in watching his guardian's red head as he bobbed up and
down opposite to him, and speculating on the thickness of each
individual hair that contributed to give it such a spiky effect. What
had his mother been like, he wondered, that she had started him in
life with such an entirely detestable countenance? Meanwhile he was
replying in monosyllables to Sir John's gentle babblings, till at last
even that gentleman's flow of conversation ran dry, and Arthur was
left free to contemplate the head in solemn silence. As soon as the
cloth had been cleared away, George suggested that they had better get
to work. Arthur assented, and Sir John, smiling with much sweetness,
remarked profoundly that business was one of the ills of life, and
must be attended to.

"At any rate, it is an ill that has agreed uncommonly well with you,"
growled George, as, rising from the table, he went to a solid iron
safe that stood in the corner of the room, and, unlocking it with a
small key that he took from his pocket, extracted a bundle of
documents.

"That is an excellent deed-box of yours, Caresfoot," said Sir John
carelessly.

"Yes; that lock would not be very easy to pick. It is made on my own
design."

"But don't you find that small parcels such as private letters are apt
to get lost in it? It is so big."

"Oh! no; there is a separate compartment for them. Now, Mr. Heigham."
And then, with the able and benign assistance of Sir John, he
proceeded to utterly con