just
escaped, for Gregory followed them to the gate, determined that they
should take a particular walk, to notice the geological formation of
the country. We then went out for a stroll together, and Gregory said
that he must talk business, and drew a strip of paper from his pocket.
This contained a series of commissions for me to execute.

I was to get him some introductions to editors or Members of
Parliament; I was to propose him at a club; I was to find him some
pupils in law; I was to read a manuscript for him and place it. I
raised feeble objections. "You seem to make a great number of
unnecessary difficulties," said Gregory. "I don't think that any of my
requests can be called unreasonable. You know enough of me to be able
to say that I should discharge any duty I undertook thoroughly and
competently." "Yes, I know," I said; "but one cannot force people's
hands in these matters." "I don't ask you to force their hands," said
Gregory; "I merely ask you to give me these introductions, and to write
a perfectly truthful account of me." Perhaps I ought to have been more
firm; but I could not find any adequate reason for objecting. I could
not tell him that the all-embracing and all-sufficing reason against
his possibility of success was that he was himself. When it came to
placing his manuscript, I said that such things did not go by
favour--and plucking up a desperate courage, said that we all had to
make our own position in literature. I suggested that he must send his
articles to editors like anyone else, and that they were only too
anxious to secure the sort of things they wanted, "No," said Gregory;
"there is an element of uncertainty about that which will not do for
me. I have tried editor after editor, and have invariably had my
articles returned. I will venture to say--and I do not think you will
contradict me--that they are all thorough, sound, and accurate pieces
of work, far more reliable than much of the stuff which appears every
day; all I want is just the personal touch with an editor or two; but,
of course, if you will not help me, I must try elsewhere--but I must
confess that I am very much disappointed," He looked drearily at me,
leaning on his stick. I do not think he had any idea where we were, nor
had he seen any single object which we had passed; but at this moment
he noticed a flower in the hedge, and looked tenderly at it. "Ha! there
is _ailanthus vulgaris_," he said--"very unusual. Excuse my
i