The following afternoon Owen was summoned to see Mr. Bragg at his office. The old house in Friar's Row had been painted and varnished inside and out. Plate glass glittered in the window panes, and elaborate brass handles shone on the doors. Owen had never been in the house during the days of Mrs. Dobbs's occupation. But he knew that May had spent much of her childhood there; and he looked round the private room into which he was shown with a tender glance such as probably never before rested on those mahogany office fittings, morocco-covered chairs, and neatly ranged account-books. Mr. Bragg was sitting at a writing-table, and held out his hand without rising, when Owen entered. "Sit down, Mr. Rivers," he said, pointing to a chair opposite to his own, on the other side of the table. Owen sat down, and remained waiting in silence. "Well, so you think you'd like to go to Spain with me?" said Mr. Bragg, slowly rubbing his chin, and looking thoughtfully at the young man. "I should like to get work to do, Mr. Bragg. I don't care much where it is. But it struck me that I might be useful to you in Spain." "Ah! Well, I was surprised at your letter." "Nothing in it that you object to, I hope?" "Oh no. Oh dear, no. Only I didn't know you was in want of employment. And I should have thought----" "Yes?" "I should have thought you'd ha' liked some more--what you might call professional employment." "A man can't step into a profession from one day to another. And besides, the professions are overstocked. There's no elbow-room in any of them--especially for a poor man." "Ah! Yes; I hear that sort of thing is said a great deal; but it seems to me that might be a reason for giving up living altogether. There's a good many of us in all classes, one way and another; but a man has got to _make_ room for himself." "You have a right to say so, Mr. Bragg, and I have no right to dispute it: for you have tried and succeeded, and I have not even tried." "Ah! That seems a pity--with your education, and all. However, I didn't intend to branch out, as I said to you last night. With regard to the point in hand, I would just say at once that this situation would be strictly tempor'y, you understand. It couldn't be looked on in the light of what you might call an opening." "I understand." "At the same time it might--I don't say it would--lead _to_ an opening," continued Mr. Bragg, indenting the paper before him by drawing his thumb-nail along it with a strong, steady movement, as though he mentally saw the opening in question, and were mapping out the way to it. "I quite understand that if you engaged me as secretary for this journey, you would not bind yourself to anything beyond. Whether anything further came of it, or not, would depend, first, on my suitableness; and next, on circumstances." "That's it," said Mr. Bragg, leaning back in his chair, and nodding slowly.