"Larch, come with me into Mr. Curpet's room." His tone was brusque. He had none of Mr. Curpet's natural politeness, though on rare occasions, of which the present was not one, he sought clumsily to imitate it. Richard felt a vague alarm. With a muffler round his throat, Mr. Curpet was seated before the fire, blowing his nose and breathing noisily. Mr. Smythe went to the window, and played with the tassel of the blind cord. "We are thinking of making some changes, Larch," Mr. Curpet began. "Yes, sir." His heart sank. Was he to be dismissed? The next sentence was reassuring. "In future all costs will be drawn and settled in the office, instead of being sent out. Do you feel equal to taking charge of that department?" Richard had many times helped in the preparation of bills of cost, and possessed a fair knowledge of this complicated and engaging subject. He answered very decidedly in the affirmative. "What we propose," Mr. Smythe broke in, "is that you should have an assistant, and that the two of you should attend to both the books and the costs." "Of course your salary will be increased," Mr. Curpet added. "Let me see, what do you get now?" This from Mr. Smythe, whose memory was imperfect. "Three pounds ten, sir." "Suppose we say four pounds ten," said Mr. Smythe to Mr. Curpet, and then turning to Larch: "That's very good indeed, you know, young man; you wouldn't get that everywhere. By Jove, no, you wouldn't!" Richard was fully aware of the fact. He could scarcely credit his own luck. "And we shall expect you to keep things up to the mark." Mr. Curpet smiled kindly over his handkerchief, as if to intimate that Mr. Smythe need not have insisted on that point. "And you may have to stay late sometimes," Mr. Smythe went on. "Yes, sir."