"We have had what I call an extremely pleasant evening, my lord." It was thus he commenced; and Hampstead, whose practice it was to be specially graceful to any one whom he chanced to meet but did not think to be a gentleman, replied very courteously that the evening had been pleasant. "Quite a thing to remember," continued Crocker. "Perhaps one remembers the unpleasant things the longest," said Hampstead, laughing. "Oh, no, my lord, not that. I always forget the unpleasant. That's what I call philosophy." Then he broke away into the subject that was near his heart. "I wish our friend Roden had been here, my lord." "Is he a friend of yours?" "Oh dear, yes;--most intimate. We sit in the same room at the Post Office. And at the same desk,--as thick as thieves, as the saying is. We often have a crack about your lordship." "I have a great esteem for George Roden. He and I are really friends. I know no one for whom I have a higher regard." This he said with an earnest voice, thinking himself bound to express his friendship more loudly than he would have done had the friend been in his own rank of life. "That's just what I feel. Roden is a man that will rise." "I hope so." "He'll be sure to get something good before long. They'll make him a Surveyor, or Chief Clerk, or something of that kind. I'll back him to have £500 a year before any man in the office. There'll be a shindy about it, of course. There always is a shindy when a fellow is put up out of his turn. But he needn't care for that. They can laugh as win. Eh, my lord!" "He would be the last to wish an injustice to be done for his own good." "We've got to take that as it comes, my lord. I won't say but what I should like to go up at once to a senior class over other men's heads. There isn't a chance of that, because I'm independent, and the seniors don't like me. Old Jerningham is always down upon me just for that reason. You ask Roden, and he'll tell you the same thing,--my lord." Then came a momentary break in the conversation, and Lord Hampstead was seizing advantage of it to escape. But Crocker, who had taken enough wine to be bold, saw the attempt, and intercepted it. He was desirous of letting the lord know all that he knew. "Roden is a happy dog, my lord." "Happy, I hope, though not a dog," said Hampstead, trusting that he could retreat gracefully behind the joke. "Ha, ha, ha! The dog only meant what a lucky fellow he is. I have heard him speak in raptures of what is in store for him." "What!" "There's no happiness like married happiness; is there, my lord?" "Upon my word, I can't say. Good night to you." "I hope you will come and see me and Roden at the office some of these days."