"I will show you a little of London life, my boy," he whispered. "You know nothing of it as yet, and unless you had a friend like me to introduce you, you might live ten years here and know no more of the ins and outs and doings of this great city than you do now." "Mr. Tryon would thereby, I suspect, be more fortunate than if he were introduced to the ways of London as you suggest," observed Mr. Pennant, the pale-faced young student. "I hope you enjoyed your dinner at your uncle's, yesterday," said Mr. Silas Sleech, as Harry took his seat near him at his office desk the next morning. "Fine girls your cousins, don't you think? I dine there sometimes, and I then always mind my P's and Q's. I flatter myself I stand well there with the fairer portion of the family, and of course our principal has a great respect for my uprightness and integrity," and a curious leer came into Mr. Sleech's eyes which he could not repress. "Who was there, Tryon?" Harry told him. "Oh! young Gilby! was he? He's a rollicking blade. He offered to introduce you into London society, did he? Why, he knows nothing about it. Do not trust him. He would only take you to a few low haunts, where you would see enough certainly of what he calls life. He invited you to dine with him a week hence, did he? Well, then, come with me to-night, and before that time I will enable you to show him that you know far more of London life than he does. But, mum, here comes your respected guardian, Mr. Roger Kyffin. Will this pen suit you, Mr. Tryon?" he said, in a loud voice. "A good handwriting is an important matter in the qualifications of a young clerk." Harry scarcely knew what to think of Silas Sleech. His manner offended him, but he seemed good-natured and obliging; so he thought to himself, "I will take him as I find him, and he is more likely to initiate me into real London life than that young fop Gilby." Harry agreed, therefore, to dine with Mr. Sleech that evening at a coffee-house, and to accompany him afterwards to some place of amusement.