Mrs. Mortomley at the first glance understood Mr. Lang had been drinking--paying his last footing for a time on English soil, and toasting prosperity to number one in a foreign land. But this made no difference in the cordiality of her reception--sober or not sober, and she had seen him in both states, she knew Lang could speak to the purpose. That unhappy glass too much which overtakes the best and cleverest of our skilled labourers on occasion, was not so rare an accident in Mr. Lang's life that Dolly feared any forgetfulness of etiquette in consequence. "Pray sit down," she said, pointing to a chair, and then she would have drawn down the blind and lit the gas had not Lang prevented her. "I think I can do that much at any rate," he remarked; but whether his observation had a special or a particular application, Dolly was unable to tell. It appeared, however, as though he was able to do "that much," for he lit the gas and drew down the blinds, and then placed a seat for Mrs. Mortomley. "If you will excuse me, ma'am," he said, "but I believe it is as cheap to sit as to stand." "Certainly it is," agreed Dolly, and accepted the proffered civility, Mr. Lang seating himself on the other side of the hearth. "Yes, I am going away to-morrow," repeated Mr. Lang, with that harking back, without a previous link to a first idea, which is so curious a peculiarity of his class. "I hope you will make a great success," said Dolly. With the peculiarity of her class, she was able to appear utterly indifferent, while her heart was aching till she heard Lang's next words. "I shall make some money, of that I have no doubt," answered the man. "I have the knowledge, and knowledge is what people want now-a-days; but, bless you, I know what they'll do--they'll pick my brains and then throw me aside like a sucked orange," he finished, with a singular involvement of metaphor. Mrs. Mortomley did not answer. She had some knowledge of his class, derived from that insight which a clever woman who personally relieves those who make their living by labour, when they are sick or distressed, must acquire almost unconsciously, and she did not wish to lose a point in her game by precipitancy. "Like a sucked orange as that blackguard Swanland would have liked to do," Mr. Lang kindly explained. "I suppose you will start in business on your own account when you return to England," said Mrs. Mortomley, seeing some reply was expected from her. "No," answered Mr. Lang slowly and solemnly; "no, no, that ain't good enough for me, not by no means. If I can earn enough in foreign parts (I want no secrets from a lady like you) I will put the wife into a business. That there new Act is a jolly good thing for such as us; and then, if you have no call for me, I'll try to get a berth as foreman. Mrs. Mortomley," he added almost in a whisper, and bending his head eagerly forward, "_have you found anything yet_?"