"Come, sir," said Will, "Mr. Green is anxious to live too; and we are taking up his time." "But really, Mr. Anerley," said the lawyer, "I should like to know what your views are?" "Ah, you want to know what I propose to do. I am not good at blacking boots; I am indifferent at cookery. Gardening—well, no. I should like to be head-keeper to a duke; or, if they start any more of these fancy stage-coaches between London and the seaside, I can drive pretty well." "You are joking," said the other, dubiously. "A man with empty pockets never jokes, unless he hopes to fill them. At present—well, good day to you—you will let me know if you hear of anything to my advantage." No sooner were they outside, than Will earnestly remonstrated with his father. "You should not suddenly lose your pride, sir." "I never had any, my boy. If I had, it is time I should lose it." "And why need you talk of taking a situation? If you can only tide over a little time, Miall & Welling will come all right." "My lad, the bladders that help you to float in that little time are rather expensive." "I have a few pounds——" "And you will lend me them. Good. What we must do now is this. Get your landlord to give us a couple of bedrooms in the house, and we can all use your sitting-room. Then we shall be together; and the first opportunity I have offered me of earning money, in whatever employment, I will accept it." "If I were not disabled, sir, by this confounded arm, you would not need to do anything of the kind." "Tuts! Every man for himself, and all of us for poor Dove, who, at present, will be moping up in that great room, terrified by the attentions of the waiters." How they passed the day does not matter to us. In the evening they went to the theatre, and chose, at Will’s instigation, the dress-circle instead of the stalls. He hoped that he might escape being seen. He had scarcely cast his eye over the bill handed to him by the box-keeper, when he discovered that Annie Brunel’s name was not there at all. "Dove," he said, "here’s a disappointment for you. Miss Featherstone plays ’Rosalind’ to-night, not Miss Brunel." "Doesn’t she appear at all to-night?" said Dove, with a crestfallen face. "Apparently not. Will you go to some other theatre?" "No," said Dove, decidedly. "I want to see ’Rosalind,’ whoever is ’Rosalind.’ Don’t you, papa?" "My dear, I want to see anything that you want to see; and I’m sure to be pleased if you laugh." "It isn’t a laughing part, and you know that quite well, you tedious old thing!" said Dove. Will went and saw Mr. Melton, from whom he learned little beyond the fact that Annie Brunel did not intend to act any more in his theatre. "She is not unwell?" "I believe not." "Has she given up the stage altogether?" "I fancy so. You’d better ask Count Schönstein: he seems to know all about it," said Mr. Melton, with a peculiar smile.