“I _should_ ’ave thought,” said the van foreman, with a wistful air, “after all that’s passed between us we might as well part good friends, at any rate.” “Look here, old chap,” said Erb good-temperedly, “_I_ tried to out you, and _you_ tried to out me; and you’ve got the best of it. I don’t complain, but I’m not going to pretend I’m on friendly terms with a man when I ain’t.” “That’s what I say,” retorted the van foreman argumentatively. “You’ve got no discretion.” The manners of William Henry had about them a fine blend of condescension; the lad came forward from the tail of the van and sat on a hamper, big with news. He had been approached that afternoon and informed that, consequent on the departure of Erb, there would be some changes, and would he, William Henry, accept the position of junior porter at fourteen shillings a week. “I shall probably work on from that,” said William Henry, “to some even higher position, and then on again. See? And if ever you want a friend, Erb—” “I don’t let boys call me Erb. Mr. Barnes, if you please.” “If I’m a boy,” said William Henry thoughtfully, “I don’t quite see where you’re going to find your men. As I was a sayin’, if ever you should be down in the gutter—and, mind you, there’s unlikelier things than that—you come to me. It may be in my power to ’elp you. And I tell you what you can do for me in exchange. You might take the van ’ome to the stables by yourself, so that I can run round to Rotherhithe New Road and tell my young lady.” “_Your_ young lady!” “And why not?” demanded William Henry with some indignation. “We ain’t all like you.” It gratified Erb, as he parted his hair with an imperfect pocket comb, and tried to make the obstinate wisp at the back of his head remain flat, to think that he had the reputation of one who exhibited no sort of weakness in regard to women; this came in well with his profound attitude towards the world. He had had a letter from the tall upper housemaid at Eaton Square, to which he had sent no reply; indeed, the communication scarcely demanded an answer, for it furnished only information in regard to the weather, and a fervent hope that his health had not been impaired by his presence at the dance; it would not have remained in his memory but for one sentence, “Her young ladyship has spoken of you once or twice.” An incomplete way of conveying a fact: something, of course, to know that she had referred to him, but it would have been more interesting to know the precise terms. He flushed at the appalling thought that she might have made some humorous comment on his behaviour.