Mr. Egerton did not choose to enter into details with his solicitors, Grigg & Limpet, who had prepared themselves for a three-volume novel, and were disappointed when they found their client’s story was a dry summary, which would have done credit to the matter-of-fact columns of the _Times_. Mr. Egerton did not even throw in a little ‘picturesque reporting.’ He had been shipwrecked, and he had been saved; he had come home, and had not made himself known because he hated excitement; he thought if he showed up right on the top of the news of the shipwreck he should be inundated with inquiries about missing relatives, and worried by newspaper reporters. He had passed his house one evening, and he supposed that was when Mrs. Turvey saw him and thought he was a ghost. He had met Duck, Messrs. Grigg & Limpet’s clerk, last evening, and sent a message to them. He should take up his residence at his house again tomorrow, and on any matter of business that might be necessary Grigg & Limpet could communicate with him there. He would call on Birnie himself. That was the substance of the professional interview. Mr. Grigg listened and said, ‘Exactly,’ ‘Indeed,’ and limited his share of the conversation to other remarks of a similar character. Limpet launched out a little more freely, but Mr. Egerton politely declined to be drawn beyond the boundary he had evidently marked out for himself. When Mr. Egerton had retired, Grigs; said, ‘’Strodinary man,’ and Limpet nodded, and added, that ‘There was something more than that at the bottom of it, or he would eat his head.’ However, as it was not for them to inquire into their client’s secrets, but only to transact his business and protect his interest, they immediately set their clerks to work to prepare a statement which would show Mr. Egerton what had been done in his absence, and how his affairs stood. When Mr. Grigg was giving instructions to Duck, a tall, good-looking young gentleman, dressed in the height of fashion, strolled into the room, and, after carefully hitching up his trousers at the knees to avoid creasing them, dropped gracefully into an arm-chair. ‘Well, governor, I’m here to time, you see. They wanted to put me in room C because you were engaged, but that game wouldn’t do with me, you know.’ Mr. Limpet frowned. Mr. Grigg did the same, and more. ‘Mr. Limpet,’ he said, ‘do you allow your son to jeer at the business?’ ‘Jeer at the business, be hanged!’ said Limpet, junior, rattling the handle of his cane against his beautiful teeth. ‘Can’t a fellow have his joke? Here, charge me 6s. 8d. for it, and put it down in the bill.’ ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Reginald,’ growled Mr. Limpet; ‘you annoy Mr. Grigg very much.’ ‘Oh, no, he doesn’t. He can’t help being a fool.’ Reginald Limpet laughed.