On the second morning, when he arrived at his work, a letter lay on his case with the Liverpool postmark, addressed R. Cruden, Esquire, _Rocket_ Office, London. In his excitement and haste to learn its contents it never occurred to him to notice the unexpected compliment conveyed in the word "Esquire"; and he might have remained for ever in blissful ignorance of the fact, had not his left-hand neighbour, the satirical Mr Barber, considered the occasion a good one for a few flashes of wit. "'Ullo, Esquire, 'ow are you, Esquire? There is somebody knows you, then. Liverpool, too! That's where all the chaps who rob the till go to. R. Cruden, Esquire--my eye! What's the use of putting any more than `London' on the envelope--such a well-known character as you? Stuck-up idiot!" To this address Reginald attended sufficiently to discover that it was not worth listening to; after which he did not even hear the concluding passages of his neighbour's declamation, being absorbed in far more interesting inquiries. He tore the envelope open and hurriedly read-- "Sir,--Your favour is to hand, and in reply we beg to say we shall be glad to arrange an interview. One of our directors will be in town on Monday next, and can see you between one and two o'clock at Weaver's Hotel. Be good enough to treat this and all further communications as strictly confidential.--We are, Sir, yours faithfully,-- "The Select Agency Corporation. "P.S.--Ask at Weaver's Hotel for Mr Medlock. "Liverpool." The welcome contents of this short note fairly staggered him. If the tone of the advertisement had been encouraging, that of this letter was positively convincing. It was concise, business-like, grammatical and courteous. Since his trouble Reginald had never been addressed by any one in the terms of respect conveyed in this communication. Furthermore, the appointment being between one and two--the dinner- hour--he would be able to keep it without difficulty or observation, particularly as Weaver's Hotel was not a stone's throw from the _Rocket_ office. Then again, the fact of his letter being from a "corporation" gratified and encouraged him. A Select Agency Corporation was not the sort of company to do things meanly or inconsiderately. They were doubtless a select body of men themselves, and they required the services of select servants; and it was perfectly reasonable that in an affair like this, which _might_ lead to nothing, strict mutual confidence should be observed. Supposing in the end he should see reason to decline to connect himself with the Corporation (Reginald liked to think this possible, though he felt sure it was not probable), why, if he had said much about it previously, it _might_ be to the prejudice of the Corporation! Finally, he thought the name "Medlock" agreeable, and was generally highly gratified with the letter, and wished devoutly Monday would come round quickly.