In the centre of one of its leading thoroughfares stands the factory of H. & E. Quinion, a lofty and rectangular pile of buildings of comparatively modern construction, with little to attract the eye from an architectural point of view; but, within, the fittings and appointments are handsome, and, in some instances, of a costly nature, yet strictly in keeping with the character of the work to be seen. On the day succeeding the events narrated in the previous chapter, soon after the dinner-bell had been rung,—which was the signal for all work to cease, as well as for those who lived near enough to hasten home to the midday meal, whilst others who elected to do so could assemble in a common room set apart for their special use,—a note was handed to the senior partner, Mr. H. Quinion, as he was seated in a small office in the centre of the works, informing him that Arnold from the London office was below, and would like to see him. Surprised, and just a little annoyed at so unexpected a visit, he gave orders for him to be shown upstairs. Arnold was a man of a quiet and reserved disposition, not regarded with much favour by his fellow-clerks, nor made a confidant of by any one in particular. It was generally felt—perhaps without sufficient reason—that he had long had his eyes upon the manager’s position in London as a post he might one day be called upon to occupy. But whenever the subject was canvassed by the rest of the staff, it was invariably with a considerable amount of scoffing and ridicule at the idea of so unsuitable a man, in everyone’s estimation but that of himself, aspiring to so responsible an appointment; and it was agreed the firm would never be so blind to their own interest as to cherish such an idea. He had, however, schemed for years to keep himself a prominent figure before the heads of the firm. He had "toadied" to little weaknesses, and, in some few smaller and minor matters, had succeeded in placing himself in front of others who had been his seniors. It may be imagined, therefore, with what keen and bitter feelings of chagrin and disappointment he regarded the events of the previous day. To find, from the appointment which had been made, that all his plans and designs had miscarried, was a collapse to his castle-building which he little expected, and was scarcely prepared to sit down quietly under; yet how to change the apparent current of events was not so clear. In this perplexity, as a last resort, he resolved to interview the members of the firm at Broadstone; and a brief note to Mr. Houghton in London, informing him of his visit to the works on a matter of importance, was the only intimation given to account for his absence from business. "Good-morning, Arnold,—an unexpected visit. Anything wrong in London?" asked Mr. Quinion, a little nervously, readjusting his spectacles, which really needed no attention.