The editor, as Adrian Grant had hinted, was no glutton for work, and an hour or two each day appeared to satisfy his taste. Thus all the details of the _Watchman_ were left to Henry, the chief articles being contributed by friends of Mr. Pilkington. A cashier, a clerk, and an advertising manager were the only members of the office staff; and as the paper was distributed by a large wholesale house, no business beyond the editorial and advertising affairs of the _Watchman_ was conducted at the office. A very humdrum place, in truth, except on the rare occasions when the lordly proprietor put in an appearance, or Mr. Pilkington received some political person with an axe to grind, and an eye on the _Watchman_, as a possible grinder. For all that, the _Watchman_ made a brave show every Friday, and its articles were quoted widely in the provincial Press as representing the weighty opinion of Tory inner circles; and the more the _Watchman_ was quoted the higher rose the hopes of Mr. Pilkington that Lord Dingleton would continue to bridge the monthly chasm which yawned between the income of the _Watchman_ and the cost of its production, for--let us blab the horrid truth, as yet unknown to Henry--the paper was merely the expensive hobby of his lordship. On returning to his office after his encounter with Trevor Smith, the young journalist was surprised and delighted to find Adrian Grant seated in his chair, and smoking the eternal cigarette. "Thought I would just drop in to see how you were getting along," the visitor said, rising and shaking hands with his protege. "Very comfortable quarters here," glancing round Henry's well-furnished room. "I had just been wondering this very day when I should have the pleasure of seeing you again." The sincerity of Henry's words was apparent on his face. "I have only run up to town for a week or two before leaving for another spell in Sardinia. I am getting restless again, and there flow the waters of Nepenthe. But the question is: How are you?" "Pleased with my work, at least, I must say, and fascinated by London. But only to-day I have had a peep at its under side, and I fear that the less one knows of that the better for one's peace." "'See all, nor be afraid.' Surely you will let Browning advise you if that decadent Adrian Grant is too pessimistic for your healthy British taste," said the visitor, with the hint of a smile. CHAPTER XIX THE PEN AND PENCIL CLUB