‘Very well, give it me; it will be sent in. You can sit here.’ And the porter opened the door of a waiting-room, which Tancred declined to enter. ‘I will wait here, thank you,’ said Tancred, and he looked round at the old oak hall, on the walls of which were hung several portraits, and from which ascended one of those noble staircases never found in a modern London mansion. At the end of the hall, on a slab of porphyry, was a marble bust, with this inscription on it, ‘_Fundator_.’ It was the first Sidonia, by Chantrey. ‘I will wait here, thank you,’ said Tancred, looking round; and then, with some hesitation, he added, ‘I have an appointment here at two o’clock.’ As he spoke, that hour sounded from the belfry of an old city church that was at hand, and then was taken up by the chimes of a large German clock in the hall. ‘It may be,’ said the porter, ‘but I can’t disturb master now; the Spanish ambassador is with him, and others are waiting. When he is gone, a clerk will take in your letter with some others that are here.’ At this moment, and while Tancred remained in the hall, various persons entered, and, without noticing the porter, pursued their way across the apartment. ‘And where are those persons going?’ inquired Tancred. The porter looked at the enquirer with a blended gaze of curiosity and contempt, and then negligently answered him without looking in Tancred’s face, and while he was brushing up the hearth, ‘Some are going to the counting-house, and some are going to the Bank, I should think.’ ‘I wonder if our hall porter is such an infernal bully as Monsieur de Sidonia’s!’ thought Tancred. There was a stir. ‘The ambassador is coming out,’ said the hall porter; ‘you must not stand in the way.’ The well-trained ear of this guardian of the gate was conversant with every combination of sound which the apartments of Sequin Court could produce. Close as the doors might be shut, you could not rise from your chair without his being aware of it; and in the present instance he was correct. A door at the end of the hall opened, and the Spanish minister came forth. ‘Stand aside,’ said the hall porter to Tancred; and, summoning the servants without, he ushered his excellency with some reverence to his carriage. ‘Now your letter will go in with the others,’ he said to Tancred, whom for a few moments he left alone, and then returned, taking no notice of our young friend, but, depositing his bulky form in his hooded chair, he resumed the city article of the _Times_. The letter ran thus: