Not to any new-fangled restaurant, or bar, or dining-room, was he in the habit of repairing to recruit exhausted nature, but to an old-fashioned City tavern, where the head waiter was gracious and familiar, and the landlord obsequious to him; where the steaks were tender and juicy, the chops done to a turn, the potatoes piping hot and dry and mealy, perfect balls of flour, the ale old and mellow, and the wine, when circumstances required his indulgence in that luxury, of a vintage which Mr. Asherill, who was no mean judge of such matters, approved. As he retraced his steps towards Salisbury Buildings, he met rushing across the road two of his own clerks. "Going home, Bailey?" he said to the taller and older of the pair, in a tone which seemed at once to hold a benediction in it, and a recommendation to turn the morrow to profitable account. "No, sir; we want to catch the 2.43 train to Leytonstone. Mr. Swanland wishes us to get to this place early, as the work must be finished to-day very particularly." Thus Mr. Bailey, while he held a piece of paper to his employer, who, after putting on his gold eye-glasses, took it, and, umbrella in one hand and paper in the other, stood on the crowded side-path in the pelting rain whilst he read twice over the address presented to him:-- "_A. Mortomley, Esqre._, "_Homewood_, "_Whip's Cross_." "Homewood," said Mr. Asherill, as if he were reciting one of the Penitential Psalms. "Homewood--poor Mortomley! These things are really very sad." And with a shake of his head, he handed the paper back to his clerk; and, after bidding him not lose the 2.43 train, proceeded on his way. Mr. Asherill's knowledge of the depravity of human nature was unfortunately so great that it certainly could not have surprised him to see Bailey wink at his younger companion as they parted company with their principal. In reply to which, the junior, with the irrepressible frivolity of boyhood, thrust his tongue in his cheek. All immensely vulgar, no doubt; yet, to a disinterested observer, immensely suggestive. CHAPTER III. FOR MERCIES VOUCHSAFED. For once, however, Mr. Asherill was in earnest. Knowing what liquidation meant to the debtor and the creditors (he had grasped its meaning thoroughly before deciding to make his living out of it) he did think it a sad thing Mortomley should liquidate. He did not wish to disoblige Mr. Forde; and yet having gauged that gentleman and the people with whom he was most intimately connected, he felt no wild desire to mell or meddle in any affair of theirs.