She was the only child of John Paul the lawyer, and had as fair a face as you'd wish to see, and a habit of blushing at nothing. To watch her as she stood there, the roses coming and going, the dimples deepening, and the small white teeth peeping, did Tom good. He was reddening himself, for that matter. "Yes, it is to be given in the large club-room at the Bell to-night," she answered. "Shall you come over for it?" "Are you going to it, Emma?" "Oh yes. Papa has taken twelve tickets. A great many people are coming in to go with us." "I shall go also," said Tom decidedly. And at that the roses came again. "What a large parcel you are carrying!" Tom held the brown-paper parcel further out at the remark. "They are my goods and chattels," said he. "Things that I had at the office. I have left it, Emma." "Left the office!" she repeated, looking as though she did not understand. "You don't mean _really_ left it?--left it for good?" "I have left it for good, Emma. Valentine----" "Here's papa," interrupted Emma, as a stout, elderly gentleman with iron-grey hair turned out of the stationer's; neither of them having the least idea he was there. "Is it you, Tom Chandler?" cried Mr. Paul. "Yes, it is, sir." "And fine to be you, I should say! Spending your time in gossip at the busiest part of the day." "Unfortunately I have to-day no business to do," returned Tom, smiling in the old lawyer's face. "And I was just telling Miss Paul why. I have left the office, sir, and am looking out for another situation." Mr. Paul stared at him. "Why, it is your own office. What's that for?" "It ought to be my own office in part, as it was my father's before me. But Valentine cannot see that, sir. He tells me he will not take me into partnership; that I ought not to expect it. I refuse to remain on any other terms; and so I have left him for good. These are my rattletraps. Odds and ends of things that I am bringing away." Mr. Paul continued to look at Tom in silence for a minute or two. Tom thought he was considering what he should next say. It was not that, however. "How well he would suit me! How I should like to take him! What a load of work he'd lift off my shoulders!" Those were the thoughts that were running rapidly through Mr. Paul's mind. But he did not speak them. In fact, he had no intention of speaking them, or of taking on Tom, much as he would have liked to do it. "When Jacob Chandler lay dying only yesterday, as it were, he told me you would join his son; that the two of you would carry on the practice together." "Yes, he said the same thing to me," replied Tom. "But Valentine refuses to carry it out. So I told him I would not be a servant where I ought to be a master, and came away." "And what are you going to do, young man?"