So the young men wound through the crowd, and were very cordially received by Mrs. Schröder, and indeed by Mr. Beresford. For the Commissioner knew his popularity in the Office and was pleased at it, and was always glad to meet decent-looking men belonging to it in society. "It improved the tone of the confounded place," he used to say. Talking to Mrs. Schröder was Mr. Sergeant Shivers, one of the ornaments of the Old-Bailey bar; a tremendously eloquent man in the florid and ornate style, with a power of cross-examination calculated to turn a witness inside out, and a power of address able to frighten the jury into fits; but who scorned all these advantages, and was never so happy as when talking of and to great people. He was on his favourite topic when Prescott and Pringle arrived. "Ah, my dear Mrs. Schröder," he was saying, "isn't it sad? The duchess herself sent for me, and said, 'Now, Mr. Sergeant, speak to him yourself. You have experience of life; above all, you have experience of our order. Tell Philip what will be the result of this marriage with Lady Di!' I promised her grace I would; and I did. I spoke not only to Lord Philip, but to Lord Ronald and Lord Alberic, his brothers. But it was no good; the marriage has come off, and now the poor duchess is in despair. Ah! there's Lady Nettleford! I must go and condole with her on the affair;" and the learned sergeant bowed himself off. "Ah! 'Good-by to the bar and its moaning,' as Kingsley says," remarked Mr. Pringle. "What a dreary bird! Now I see you're fidgetting to be off, Jim; and I know perfectly well why; so we'll go and look after the Murray. What a pity she's not got up in red, like her namesakes! then we could recognise her a mile off." "There she is!" suddenly exclaimed Mr. Prescott. "There! just crossing the end of the croquet-ground. I'm off, George. I shall find you in plenty of time to go together;" and Mr. Prescott strode away in great haste. "Very good," said Mr. Pringle; "'and she was left lamenting.' I believe I am in the position of the daughter of the Earl of Ellin; if not, why not? There's no fair young form to hang upon me; man delights me not nor woman either; so I'll see if there's any moselle-cup handy."