The proposal was so sudden, so unexpected, that Tom scarcely knew what to make of it. He did not know that Mr. Paul's office wanted him. "I have been thinking upon matters since I saw you this morning, Tom Chandler. I am growing elderly; some people would say old; and the thought has often crossed me that it might be as well if I had some one about me different from an ordinary clerk. Were I laid aside by illness to-morrow the conduct of the business would still lie upon me; and lie it must, unless I get a confidential manager, who is a qualified lawyer: one who can act in my place without reference to me. I offer you the post; and I will give you, to begin with, two hundred a-year." "I should like it of all things," cried Tom in delight, eyes and face sparkling. "I am used to Islip and don't care to leave it. Yes, sir, I will come with the greatest pleasure." "Then that's settled," said old Paul. * * * * * Just about two years had gone on, and it was hot summer again. In the same room at North Villa where poor Thomas Chandler had died, sat Valentine Chandler and his mother. It was evening, and the window was open to the garden. In another room, its window also open, sat the three girls, Georgiana, Clementina, and Julietta; all of them singing and playing and squalling. "Not talk about business on a Sunday night! You must have grown wonderfully serious all on a sudden!" exclaimed Mrs. Chandler, tartly. "I never get to see you except on a Sunday: you know that, Valentine." "It is not often I can get time to come over on a week-day," responded Valentine, helping himself to some spirits and water, which had been placed on the table after supper. "Business won't let me." "If all I hear be true, it is not business that hinders you," said Mrs. Chandler. "Be quiet, Valentine: I _must_ speak. I have put it off and off, disliking to do it; but I must speak at last. Your business, as I am told, is falling off alarmingly; that a great deal of it has gone over to John Paul." "Who told you?" "That is beyond the question, Valentine, and I am not going to make mischief. Is it true, or is it not true?" "A little of the practice went over to Paul when Tom left me. It was not much. Some of the clients, you see, had been accustomed to Tom at our place, and they followed him. That was a crafty move of John Paul's--getting hold of Tom." "I am not alluding to the odds and ends of practice that left you then, Valentine. I speak chiefly of this last year. Hardly a week has passed in it but some client or other has left you for Paul." "If they have, I can't help it," was the careless reply. "How those girls squall!" "I suppose there is no underhand influence at work, Valentine?" she said dubiously. "Tom Chandler does not hold out baits for your clients, and so fish them away from you?"