“Good morning,” replied Arthur. And at that moment Mr. Galloway--his flaxen curls in full flow upon his head, something like rings--came forth from his private room. “Good morning, sir,” Arthur added, to his master. Mr. Galloway nodded a reply to the salutation. “Have you seen anything of Yorke?” he asked. “I want that deed that he’s about finished as soon as possible.” “He will not be an instant,” said Arthur. “I saw him coming up the street.” Roland Yorke bustled in; a dark young man of twenty-one, with large but fine features, and a countenance expressive of indecision. “Come, Mr. Yorke, you promised to be here early to-day. You know that deed is being waited for.” “So I am early, sir,” returned Roland. “Early! for _you_ perhaps,” grunted Mr. Galloway. “Get to it at once.” Roland Yorke unlocked a drawer, collected sundry parchments together, and sat down to his desk. He and Arthur had their places side by side. Mr. Galloway stood at a table, and began sorting some papers that were upon it. “How is Mr. Channing this morning, Arthur?” “Much as usual, thank you, sir. Certain news, which arrived last night, has not tended to cheer him.” “It is true, then?” remarked Mr. Galloway. “I heard a rumour of it.” “Oh, it’s true enough,” said Arthur. “It is in all the morning papers.” “Well, there never was a more unjust decision!” emphatically spoke Mr. Galloway. “Mark you, I am not reflecting on the Lord Chancellor’s judgment. I have always said that there were one or two nasty points in that suit, which the law might get hold of; but I know the whole cause by heart, from beginning to end; and that money was as much your father’s, as this coat, that I have on, is mine. Tell him I’ll come in one of these fine evenings, and abuse the injustice of our laws with him,--will you?” “Yes, sir,” replied Arthur. “What’s this row in the college school about a destroyed surplice, and the boys not getting their holiday through it?” resumed Mr. Galloway. “Oh, are they not savage!” struck in Roland Yorke. “The first thing Tod did, when he came home to breakfast, was to fling over his bowl of coffee, he was in such a passion. Lady Augusta--she came down to breakfast this morning, for a wonder--boxed his ears, and ordered him to drink water; but he went into the kitchen, and made a lot of chocolate for himself.” “What are the particulars? How was it done? I cannot understand it at all,” said Mr. Galloway. “Bywater left his clean surplice yesterday in the vestry, and some one threw ink over it--half soaked it in ink, so the choristers told Tom,” answered Arthur Channing. “In the afternoon--they had service late, you know, sir, waiting for the judges--Bywater was not in his place to sing the anthem, and Hurst sang it, and it put the master out very much.”