into fragments a bundle of official documents.
His character was so well known that no one doubted his dismissal.
Mr. Jerningham had spoken of it as a thing accomplished. Bobbin and
Geraghty had been congratulated on their rise in the department.
"Dismissal--B. B." had been recorded, if not in any official book, at
any rate in all official minds. But B. B. himself had as yet decided
nothing. When Crocker attended Lady Amaldina's wedding in his best
coat and gloves he was still under suspension; but trusting to the
conviction that after so long a reprieve capital punishment would not
be carried out.

Sir Boreas Bodkin had shoved the papers on one side, and, since that,
nothing further had been said on the matter. Weeks had passed, but
no decision had been made public. Sir Boreas was a man whom the
subordinates nearest to him did not like to remind as to any such
duty as this. When a case was "shoved on one side" it was known to
be something unpalateable. And yet, as Mr. Jerningham whispered to
George Roden, it was a thing that ought to be settled. "He can't come
back, you know," he said.

"I dare say he will," said the Duca.

"Impossible! I look upon it as impossible!" This Mr. Jerningham said
very seriously.

"There are some people, you know," rejoined the other, "whose bark is
so much worse than their bite."

"I know there are, Mr. Roden, and Sir Boreas is perhaps one of them;
but there are cases in which to pardon the thing done seems to be
perfectly impossible. This is one of them. If papers are to be
destroyed with impunity, what is to become of the Department? I for
one should not know how to go on with my duties. Tearing up papers!
Good Heavens! When I think of it I doubt whether I am standing on my
head or my heels."

This was very strong language for Mr. Jerningham, who was not
accustomed to find fault with the proceedings of his superiors.
He went about the office all these weeks with a visage of woe and
the air of a man conscious that some great evil was at hand. Sir
Boreas had observed it, and knew well why that visage was so long.
Nevertheless when his eyes fell on that bundle of papers,--on the
Crocker bundle of papers,--he only pushed it a little further out of
sight than it was before.

Who does not know how odious a letter will become by being shoved
on one side day after day? Answer it at the moment, and it will be
nothing. Put it away unread, or at least undigested, for a day, and
it at onc