son. As he sat, his eye chanced to fall upon the two letters lying on
his desk, and it struck him that they had better be attended to. It did
not suit his plans to fall back upon his credit just yet. It has been
already shown that he was a man of ready resource. He rang the bell and
summoned his senior clerk.

"Good morning, John," he said affably.

"Good morning, Mr. Girdlestone, good morning, sir," said wizened little
John Gilray, rubbing his thin yellow hands together, as a sign of his
gratification.

"I hear, John, that you have come into a legacy lately," Mr. Girdlestone
said.

"Yes, sir. Fifteen hundred pounds, sir. Less legacy duty and
incidental expenses, fourteen hundred and twenty-eight six and
fourpence. My wife's brother Andrew left it, sir, and a very handsome
legacy too."

John Girdlestone smiled with the indulgent smile of one to whom such a
sum was absolutely nothing.

"What have you done with the money, then, John?" he asked carelessly.

"Banked it, sir, in the United Metropolitan."

"In the United Metropolitan, John? Let me see. Their present rate of
interest is three and a half?"

"Three, sir," said John.

"Three! Dear me, John, that is poor interest, very poor indeed. It is
most fortunate that I made these inquiries. I was on the point of
drawing fourteen hundred pounds from one of my correspondents as a
temporary convenience. For this I should pay him five per cent. I have
no objection, John, as you are an old servant of the firm, to giving you
the preference in this matter. I cannot take more than fourteen
hundred--but I shall be happy to accommodate you up to that sum at the
rate named."

John Gilray was overwhelmed by this thoughtful and considerate act. "It
is really too generous and kind, sir," he said. "I don't know how to
thank you."

"Don't mention it, John," the senior partner said grandly. "The firm is
always glad to advance the interests of its employees in any reasonable
manner. Have you your cheque-book with you? Fill it up for fourteen
hundred. No more, John; I cannot oblige you by taking any more."

The head clerk having made out his cheque for the amount, and having
signed his name to it in a cramped little quaint handwriting, which
reminded one of his person, was duly presented with a receipt and
dismissed to his counting-house. There he entertained the other clerks
by a glowing description of the magnanimity of his employer.

John Girdlesto