“Yes, Sir,” said William, as he shut the door behind them: “certainly, Sir.” And then, having placed the musty documents upon the shelf, whence they could be fetched down without difficulty on the slightest sign of a client, that ingenious youth, with singular confidence that nobody would be inconvenienced thereby, put a notice on the door to the effect that he would be back immediately, and adjourned to indulge in the passionately exhilarating game of “chuck farthing” with various other small clerks of his acquaintance. In due course, Eustace and his legal adviser arrived at Pump-court, and, oh! how the heart of James, the barrister, swelled with pride when, for the first time in his career, he saw a real solicitor enter his chambers accompanied by a real client. He would, indeed, have preferred it if the solicitor had not happened to be his twin-brother, and the client had been some other than his intimate friend; but still it was a blessed sight—a very blessed sight! “Will you be seated, gentlemen?” he said with much dignity. They obeyed. “And now, Meeson, I suppose that you have explained to my brother the matter on which you require my advice?” “No, I haven’t,” said Eustace; “I thought I might as well explain it to you both together, eh?” “Hum,” said James; “it is not quite regular. According to the etiquette of the profession to which I have the honour to belong, it is not customary that matters should be so dealt with. It is usual that papers should be presented; but that I will overlook, as the point appears to be pressing.” “That’s right,” said Eustace. “Well, I have come to see about a will.” “So I understand,” said James; “but what will, and where is it?” “Well, it’s a will in my favour, and is tattooed upon a lady’s neck.” The twins simultaneously rose from their chairs, and looked at Eustace with such a ridiculous identity of movement and expression that he fairly burst out laughing. “I presume, Meeson, that this is not a hoax,” said James, severely. “I presume that you know too well what is due to learned counsel to attempt to make one of their body the victim of a practical joke?” “Surely, Meeson,” added John, “you have sufficient respect for the dignity of the law not to tamper with it in any such way as my brother has indicated?” “Oh, certainly not. I assure you it is all square. It is a true bill, or rather a true will.” “Proceed,” said James, resuming his seat. “This is evidently a case of an unusual nature.” “You are right there, old boy,” said Eustace. “And now, just listen,” and he proceeded to unfold his moving tale with much point and emphasis. When he had finished John looked at James rather helplessly. The case was beyond him. But James was equal to the occasion. He had mastered that first great axiom which every young barrister should lay to heart—“Never appear to be ignorant.”