There was a decent clerk of middle-age writing at a desk. He came forward courteously, and took from Mr Harbury’s hand a note which was addressed to his master. It was to introduce Cosmo and himself, and to tell their business. The clerk came out again at once. He first bowed out a very old man, a client whose hands were shaking, and then bowed in through the green baize door the two new visitors. Then he shut the green baize door, and Cosmo, in some awe, sat down and looked about him. [Illustration: MR ASHINGTON, FROM A PORTRAIT—(UNDER HIS COUNTRY NAME OF MR CURLEW) IN “HOSTS AND HOSTESSES OF RUTLANDSHIRE”] There was a large table with two novels upon it, and a great inkpot, and two silver candlesticks, and a piece of sealing wax, and a lovely little statuette of Napoleon in bronze. There were also some letters upon the table, and two envelopes waiting for the post. And, sitting at the table, was a little elderly man, with kind keen eyes and a kind smile, but coughing and weak in health, who blinked his eyes and twiddled his mouth as he spoke. And when he spoke he had another nervousness, which was to repeat his phrases; and he began by saying: “Well, well,” and then he said it again, and smiled and added: “it’s very simple, Harbury, it’s very simple. I suppose that this gentleman is of age?—is of age?” He looked kindly again at Cosmo, and added: “is of age?” Cosmo said that he was twenty-three. He was afraid it might have been bad form, or he would have mentioned birth certificates and proofs; but this statement appeared enough; he was astonished at the ease with which these mysterious things were settled in this new great world which he had never known. The little old man got up, walking with knees rather bent, and with short steps, saying: “I’ll get a form, I’ll get a form, Harbury; I’ll get a form.” And he went to another door at the end of his little room. In the silence Cosmo looked at the walls, he noted their taste and comfort: the excellent English mezzotints of Italian workmanship, and the air, in every subdued decoration, of harmony with the English air and manner, the old dignified English quarter in which this English house had been built two hundred years before. His mind was still upon these charming characters of security and repose, when Mr Harbury said to him quietly and with a smile: “Cosmo, I have asked for £1250.... I am determined that you shall have something in hand; you must have your mind quite free ... when the work you may have to do begins.” And Cosmo did nothing but smile in answer a little sadly, and nod once or twice. Then old Mr Ashington came toddling back, put on gold spectacles with great elaboration, laid the form on the table by Cosmo, and, bending over it, followed down its few clauses with his delicate white finger, and Cosmo read them, murmuring their words; and then old Mr Ashington said: