Roland stared. He had not forgotten Josiah Hurst; but the rather short and very broad young man by his side, as broad as he was high, bore no resemblance to the once slim college boy. Roland never doubted: he got off his stool, upsetting it in the process, to shake heartily the meeting hand. Mr. Brown began to think the quiet of the office would not be much enhanced through its new inmate. "My goodness! you are the first of the old fellows I've seen. And what are you, Hurst,--a lawyer?" "Yes; I've passed. But the old doctor (at home, you know) won't buy me a practice, or let me set up for myself, or anything, until I've had some experience: and so I've come to Greatorex and Greatorex to get it," concluded Mr. Hurst, ruefully. "And who's he?" continued Roland, pointing to Jenner. "Greatorex said nothing about him." He was one of the least men ever seen, but he had a vast amount of work in him. Mr. Hurst explained that Jenner was only a clerk, but a very efficient one. "He'd do twice the amount of work that I could, Yorke: I'm slow and sure; Jenner is sure and quick. How long have you been home from Port Natal?" "Don't bother about that now," said Roland. "Did you make your fortune out there?" "What a senseless question! If I'd made a fortune there, it stands to reason I should not have come into an office here." "How was I to know? You might have made a fortune and dissipated it?" "Dissipated it in what?" cried Roland, with wide-open eyes. And to Mr. Hurst, who had gained some knowledge of what is called life, the look and the question bore earnest that Roland Yorke, in spite of his travelling experiences, was not much tainted by the world and its ways. "Oh, in many things. Horse-racing, for instance." Roland threw back his head in the old emphatic manner. "If ever I _do_ get a fortune, Jos,--which appears about as likely as that Port Natal and Ireland should join hands and spin a waltz with each other--I'll take care of it." Possibly in the notion occurring to him that idleness was certainly not the best way to acquire a fortune, Roland tilted his stool on its even legs, and began to work in earnest. When he had accomplished two lines, he took it to the manager. "Will this do, Mr. Brown? I'm rather out of practice." Mr. Brown signified that it would. He knew his business better than to give anything of much consequence to an unknown and untried clerk. "Are you related to Sir Richard Yorke?" he asked of Roland. "Yes, I am; and I'm ashamed of him. Old Dick's my uncle, my late father's brother; and his son and heir, young Dick, is my cousin. Old Dick is the greatest screw alive; he'd not help a fellow to save him from hanging. He's as poor as Carrick; but I don't call that an excuse for him; his estate is mortgaged up to the neck."